Potter and Black: Book Three
by Hisagi-Tan
Summary: Sirius Black has escaped Azkaban. James's Father? Wait, why didn't she know about this? Here is Book Three filled with twists and turns as James and Harry's close relationship is threatened. -KrisxCross's story and she has given me the right to repost her story.
1. Chapter 1

Hello my avid readers! I hope you enjoy the first chapter of the third book! Onward to the story, after these messages…The last movie is amazing by the way. =)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, if I did then Harry Potter, in the movie would still have green eyes and not blue. ;)

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James Black was a highly unusual girl in many ways. For one thing, she hated the summer holidays more than any other time of year.

For another, she really wanted to go to sleep, Harry was doing homework so she stayed awake for him.

And she also happened to be a witch.

It was nearly midnight, and James was leaning against the bed with her eyes closed listening to Harry's quill scratch across the page. James had did her homework when she was at school as she knew that the Dursleys would take their things.

She heard the quill pause at the top of a likely looking paragraph.

"What did Wendelin the weird do again, James?" Harry asked with annoyance in his voice. He must have been tired to not check the textbook inform of him.

"Non-magic people (more commonly known as Muggles) were particularly afraid of magic in medieval times, but not very good at recognizing it. On the rare occasion that they did catch a real witch or wizard, burning had no effect whatsoever. The witch or wizard would perform a basic Flame-Freezing Charm and then pretend to shriek with pain while enjoying a gentle, tickling sensation. Indeed, Wendelin the Weird enjoyed being burned so much that she allowed herself to be caught no less than forty-seven times in various disguises." James recited using her photographic memory that has gotten her to one on the top witches in her year. Harry's quill began scratching again and James dosed off a bit more.

The Dursley family of Number Four, Privet Drive, was the reason that the cousins never enjoyed their summer holidays. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and their son, Dudley, were their only living relatives that were not insane or have disappeared. They were Muggles, and they had a very medieval attitude toward magic. Harry's dead parents and James's insane mother and unknown father, who had been a witch and wizard themselves, were never mentioned under the Dursleys' roof. For years, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had hoped that if they kept them as downtrodden as possible, they would be able to squash the magic out of them. To their fury, they had not been unsuccessful. These days they lived in terror of anyone finding out that they had spent most of the last two years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The most they could do, however, was to lock away their spell books, wands, cauldrons, and broomstick at the start of the summer break, and forbid them to talk to the neighbors.

This separation from his spell books had been a real problem for Harry, because his teachers at Hogwarts had given him a lot of holiday work. One of the essays, a particularly nasty one about shrinking potions, was for Harry's least favorite teacher, Professor Snape, who would be delighted to have an excuse to give Harry detention for a month. James had just smirked smugly at him about her finished work that he still had no idea how she finished when they were only two days of school left until they left, he never knew when she did her homework, just that she would have it by the time for class.

Harry had therefore seized his chance in the first week of the holidays. While Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley had gone out into the front garden to admire Uncle Vernon's new company car (in very loud voices, so that the rest of the street would notice it too), Harry had crept downstairs, picked the lock on the cupboard under the stairs (James had taught him how), grabbed some of his books, and hidden them in his bedroom.

As long as he didn't leave spots of ink on the sheets, the Dursleys need never know that he was studying magic by night.

Harry was particularly keen to avoid trouble with his aunt and uncle at the moment, as they were already in an especially bad mood with him, all because he'd received a telephone call from a fellow wizard one week into the school vacation. James had made herself scarce, but the Dursleys left her alone after Fred had threatened to curse them if they laid a finger on her or if he saw her like he did last summer. They had been terrified of the boy because, Vernon remembered that the boy had punched him the last time he had seen him.

Ron Weasley, who was one of their best friends at Hogwarts, came from a whole family of wizards. This meant that he knew a lot of things they didn't, but had never used a telephone before.

Most unluckily, it had been Uncle Vernon who had answered the call.

"Vernon Dursley speaking."

Harry, who happened to be in the room at the time, froze as he heard Ron's voice answer.

"HELLO? HELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME? I — WANT — TO — TALK — TO — HARRY — POTTER!"

Ron was yelling so loudly that Uncle Vernon jumped and held the receiver a foot away from his ear, staring at it with an expression of mingled fury and alarm.

"WHO IS THIS?" he roared in the direction of the mouthpiece. "WHO ARE YOU?"

"RON — WEASLEY!" Ron bellowed back, as though he and Uncle Vernon were speaking from opposite ends of a football field. "I'M — A — FRIEND — OF — HARRY'S — FROM — SCHOOL —"

Uncle Vernon's small eyes swiveled around to Harry, who was rooted to the spot.

"THERE IS NO HARRY POTTER HERE!" he roared, now holding the receiver at arm's length, as though frightened it might explode. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT SCHOOL YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT! NEVER CONTACT ME AGAIN! DON'T YOU COME NEAR MY FAMILY!"

And he threw the receiver back onto the telephone as if dropping a poisonous spider.

The fight that had followed had been one of the worst ever.

"HOW DARE YOU GIVE THIS NUMBER TO PEOPLE LIKE — PEOPLE LIKE YOU!" Uncle Vernon had roared, spraying Harry with spit.

Ron obviously realized that he'd gotten Harry into trouble, because he hadn't called again. Their other best friend from Hogwarts, Hermione Granger, hadn't been in touch either. James suspected that Ron had warned Hermione not to call, which was a pity, because Hermione, the only witch as clever or even cleverer then she in their year, had Muggle parents, knew perfectly well how to use a telephone, and would probably have had enough sense not to say that she went to Hogwarts.

So Harry had had no word from any of his wizarding friends for five long weeks, and this summer was turning out to be almost as bad as the last one. James on the other hand was sending and receiving letters from the twins, lee, and Blaise. There was just one very small improvement — after swearing that he wouldn't use her to send letters to any of his friends, Harry had been allowed to let his owl, Hedwig, out at night. Uncle Vernon had given in because of the racket Hedwig made if she was locked in her cage all the time. James had been doing it either way, she really could careless when she knew the Dursley's wouldn't touch her because of Fred's threats.

Harry finished writing about Wendelin the Weird and paused to listen again. The silence in the dark house was broken only by the distant, grunting snores of his enormous cousin, Dudley. It must be very late, James thought. Her eyes were itching with tiredness. Perhaps she'd tell Harry to finish the essay tomorrow night…

Harry as if reading her mind decide to do the same. He replaced the top of the ink bottle; pulled an old pillowcase from under their bed; put the flashlight, A History of Magic, his essay, quill, and ink inside it; got out of bed; and hid the lot under a loose floorboard under their bed. Then he stood up, stretched, and checked the time on the luminous alarm clock on his bedside table.

It was one o'clock in the morning. James's stomach gave a funny jolt. Harry had been thirteen years old for a whole hour.

Yet another unusual thing about Harry was how little he looked forward to his birthdays. He had never received a birthday card in his life; besides James's hand drawn ones. The Dursleys had completely ignored his last two birthdays, and he had no reason to suppose they would remember this one.

Harry walked across the dark room, past Hedwig's large, empty cage, to the open window. He leaned on the sill, the cool night air pleasant on his face after a long time under the blankets. Hedwig had been absent for two nights now. Harry wasn't worried about her: she'd been gone this long before. James got up and leaned into his side looking out of the window with him. The message was sent to him and he gave her a squeeze around her waist of thanks.

James, though still rather small for her age, had grown a few inches over the last year. Her jet-black wavy hair was now down to her waist and her bangs were curved to the right ride of her face like she liked them. Her eyes were the same navy blue with silver accents added in, but her lips had become more pouty, her waist was more defined, and she wasn't completely flat anymore either. She had also became a woman, I think all girls know what I mean by that. Harry was still the same, though he too had grown a few inches too.

Of all the unusual things about Harry, this scar was the most extraordinary of all. It was not, as the Dursleys had pretended for ten years, a souvenir of the car crash that had killed Harry's parents, because Lily and James Potter had not died in a car crash.

They had been murdered, murdered by the most feared Dark wizard for a hundred years, Lord Voldemort. Harry had escaped from the same attack with nothing more than a scar on his forehead, where Voldemort's curse, instead of killing him, had rebounded upon its originator. Barely alive, Voldemort had fled…

But Harry and James had come face-to-face with him at Hogwarts. Remembering their last meeting as they stood at the dark window, Harry had to admit he was lucky even to have reached his thirteenth birthday. James however was shocked to know that she was still there as well, she didn't know why but she was. James may have put on a brave face to Harry and Voldemort/Tom but she had been terrified, what could she do to him? She wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived, she was just his cousin, his older cousin. James knew that if the time came she would let herself be killed instead of Harry, she was the eldest and she would rather die than for Harry to.

She scanned the starry sky for a sign of Hedwig, perhaps soaring back to them with a dead mouse dangling from her beak, expecting praise. Gazing absently over the rooftops, it was a few seconds before James realized what she was seeing.

Silhouetted against the golden moon, and growing larger every moment, was a large, strangely lopsided creature, and it was flapping in their direction.

They stood quite still, watching it sink lower and lower. For a split second Harry hesitated, his hand on the window latch, wondering whether to slam it shut. But then the bizarre creature soared over one of the street lamps of Privet Drive, and they, realizing what it was, leapt aside.

Through the window soared four owls, three of them holding up the fourth, which appeared to be unconscious. They landed with a soft flump on their bed, and the middle owl, which was large and gray, keeled right over and lay motionless. There was a large package tied to its legs.

James recognized the unconscious owl at once — his name was Errol, and he belonged to the Weasley family.

Harry dashed to the bed, untied the cords around Errol's legs, took off the parcel, and then carried Errol to Hedwig's cage. Errol opened one bleary eye, gave a feeble hoot of thanks, and began to gulp some water.

Harry turned back to the remaining owls. One of them, the large snowy female, was his own Hedwig. She, too, was carrying a parcel and looked extremely pleased with herself. She gave Harry an affectionate nip with her beak as he removed her burden, then flew across the room to join Errol.

Harry didn't recognize the third or fourth owl, two handsome tawny ones, but he knew at once where one had come from, because in addition to a third package, it was carrying a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest. When Harry relieved this owl of its burden, it ruffled its feathers importantly, stretched its wings, and took off through the window into the night. James had grabbed the money she had gotten from her stuff and paid the owl taking the package and giving it to Harry with a warm smile that was returned.

Harry and James sat down on their bed and Harry grabbed Errol's package,ripped off the brown paper, and discovered a present wrapped in gold and his first ever birthday card, not hand drawn from James.

Fingers trembling slightly, he opened the envelope.

Two pieces of paper fell out — a letter and a newspaper clipping.

The clipping had clearly come out of the wizarding newspaper, the Daily Prophet, because thepeople in the black-and-white picture were moving. Harry picked up the clipping, smoothed it out, and read aloud quietly:

MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw. A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet, "We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank."

The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend.

They scanned the moving photograph, and grins spread across their faces as they saw all nine of the Weasleys waving furiously at them, standing in front of a large pyramid. Plump little Mrs. Weasley; tall, balding Mr. Weasley; six sons; and one daughter, all (though the black-and-white picture didn't show it) with flaming-red hair. Right in the middle of the picture was Ron, tall and gangling, with his pet rat, Scabbers, on his shoulder and his arm around his little sister, Ginny.

James couldn't think of anyone who deserved to win a large pile of gold more than the Weasleys, who were very nice and extremely poor.

He picked up Ron's letter and unfolded it. James read over his shoulder.

Dear Harry and James,

Happy birthday, Harry!

Look, I'm really sorry about that telephone call.

I hope the Muggles didn't give you a hard time. I asked Dad, and he reckons I shouldn't have shouted.

It's amazing here in Egypt. Bill's taken us around all the tombs and you wouldn't believe the curses those old Egyptian wizards put on them. Mum wouldn't let Ginny come in the last one. I couldn't believe it when Dad won the Daily Prophet Draw. Seven hundred galleons! Most of it's gone on this trip, but they're going to buy me a new wand for next year.

They both remembered only too well the occasion when Ron's old wand had snapped. It had happened when the car the three of them had been flying to Hogwarts had crashed into a tree on the school grounds.

We'll be back about a week before term starts and we'll be going up to London to get my wand and our new books. Any chance of meeting you both there?

Don't let the Muggles get you down! James, Fred says that you better look healthy when he sees you.

Try and come to London,

Ron

P.S. Percy's Head Boy. He got the letter last week.

James groaned as she glanced back at the photograph. Percy, who was in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, was looking particularly smug. He had pinned his Head Boy badge to the fez perched jauntily on top of his neat hair, his horn-rimmed glasses flashing in the Egyptian sun.

Harry now turned to his present and unwrapped it. Inside was what looked like a miniature glass spinning top. There was another note from Ron beneath it.

Harry — this is a Pocket Sneakoscope. If there's someone untrustworthy around, it's supposed to light up and spin. Bill says it's rubbish sold for wizard tourists and isn't reliable, because it kept lighting up at dinner last night. But he didn't realize Fred and George had put beetles in his soup, James how do you stand them?

Bye — Ron

Harry put the Pocket Sneakoscope on their bedside table, where it stood quite still, balanced on its point, reflecting the luminous hands of their clock. He looked at it happily for a few seconds, then picked up the parcel Hedwig had brought.

Inside this, too, there was a wrapped present, a card, and a letter, this time from Hermione.

Dear Harry and James,

Ron wrote to me and told me about his phone call to your Uncle Vernon. I do hope you're both all right.

I'm on holiday in France at the moment and I didn't know how I was going to send this to you — what if they'd opened it at customs? — but then Hedwig turned up! I think she wanted to make sure you got something for your birthday for a change. I bought your present by owl-order; there was an advertisement in the Daily Prophet (I've been getting it delivered; it's so good to keep up with what's going on in the wizarding world). Did you see that picture of Ron and his family a week ago? I bet he's learning loads. I'm really jealous — the ancient Egyptian wizards were fascinating. There's some interesting local history of witchcraft here, too. I've rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things I've found out, I hope it's not too long — it's two rolls of parchment more than Professor Binns asked for. Ron says he's going to be in London in the last week of the holidays. Can you both make it? Will your aunt and uncle let you come? I really hope you can. If not, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September first!

Love from Hermione

P.S. Ron says Percy's Head Boy. I'll bet Percy's really pleased. Ron doesn't seem too happy about it.

James and Harry laughed as he put Hermione's letter aside and picked up her present. It was very heavy. Knowing Hermione, he was sure it would be a large book full of very difficult spells but it wasn't. His heart gave a huge bound as he ripped back the paper and saw a sleek black leather case, with silver words stamped across it, reading Broomstick Servicing Kit. James giggled and picked up her kitten Aero that was wide awake and wanted attention. Aunt Petunia had a real fit about the cat but James swore she would keep him in her room and keep the blinds closed so no one could see her and that she would clean up after him. Aunt Petunia agreed after James threatened to show him off to the neighbors before they got rid of him.

"Wow, Hermione!" Harry whispered, unzipping the case to look inside. James rolled her eyes, men and their brooms.

There was a large jar of Fleetwood's High-Finish Handle Polish, a pair of gleaming silver Tail-Twig Clippers, a tiny brass compass to clip on your broom for long journeys, and a Handbook of Do-It-Yourself Broomcare.

Apart from his friends, the thing that Harry missed most about Hogwarts was Quidditch, the most popular sport in the magical world — highly dangerous, very exciting, and played on broomsticks. James

was, more than likely going to be on the team this year, from what she heard Angelina was going to do an exchange project and go to some school and France for a year.

Harry happened to be a very good Quidditch player; he had been the youngest person in a century to be picked for one of the Hogwarts House teams. One of Harry's most prized possessions was his Nimbus Two Thousand and One racing broom, that James had supplied to the team after Draco Malfoy's father "donated" the Slytherin team with there own.

Harry put the leather case aside and picked up his last parcel. He recognized the untidy scrawl on the brown paper at once: this was from Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper. He tore off the top layer of paper and glimpsed something green and leathery, but before he could unwrap it properly, the parcel gave a strange quiver, and whatever was inside it snapped loudly — as though it had jaws, it sounded like more than one thing too.

They froze. They knew that Hagrid would never send Harry or James anything dangerous on purpose, but then, Hagrid didn't have a normal person's view of what was dangerous. Hagrid had been known to befriend giant spiders, buy vicious, three-headed dogs from men in pubs, and sneak illegal dragon eggs into his cabin. James had gotten the story of what had happened from the three, and then from Harry and Ron when Hermione couldn't say anymore because she herself didn't know.

Harry poked the parcel nervously. It snapped loudly again. Harry reached for the lamp on his bedside table, gripped it firmly in one hand, and raised it over his head, ready to strike. Then he seized the rest of the wrapping paper in his other hand and pulled.

And out fell — two books.

James and Harry just had time to register their handsome green covers, emblazoned with the golden title The Monster Book of Monsters, before they flipped onto their edges and scuttled sideways along the bed like some weird crabs.

"Uh-oh," Harry muttered.

"You can say that again." James hissed quietly so, she didn't wake up the Dursley's.

The books toppled off the bed with loud clunks and shuffled rapidly across the room. Harry and James followed them stealthily. The books were hiding in the dark space under their desk. Praying that the Dursleys were still fast asleep, Harry and James got down on their hands and knees and reached toward them.

"Ouch!"

"Son of a bitch!"

The books had snapped shut on their hands and then flapped past them, still scuttling on their covers. Harry scrambled around, threw himself forward, and managed to flatten them. Uncle Vernon gave a loud, sleepy grunt in the room next door.

Hedwig and Errol watched interestedly as Harry clamped the struggling books tightly in his arms, as James hurried to their chest of drawers, and pulled out two belts, which she buckled tightly around them. The Monster Books shuddered angrily, but could no longer flap and snap, so Harry threw them down on the bed and reached for Hagrid's card. James with a frown read it over his shoulder again.

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday!

Think you and James might find this useful for next year.

Won't say no more here. Tell you when I see you.

Hope the Muggles are treating you both right.

All the best,

Hagrid

It struck James as ominous that Hagrid thought a biting book would come in useful, but Harry put Hagrid's card up next to Ron's and Hermione's, grinning more broadly than ever. Now there was only the letters from Hogwarts left and James gift. So he reached out for the box and opened it to find a bracelet and a watch. James quickly took the bracelet with a smile and pointed towards the note and Harry's jaw dropped as he read:

Portable port keys, the watches or bracelets or mixed matched will only go to where the other one is located. Press the button on the watch, or pull the charm on the bracelet and you will be port key to the location of the other item that came with it. Great for under-aged wizards and witches to go to their friends' houses without floo powder or apparition.

Harry shocked quickly put the silver wrist watch on and hugged James tightly as she put her silver bracelet on with a smile. Then they picked up there Hogwarts letters.

Noticing that it was rather thicker than usual, James slit open the envelope, pulled out the first page of parchment within, and read:

Dear Miss Black,

Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock. Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign.

A list of books for next year is enclosed.

Yours sincerely,

Professor M. McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

James pulled out the Hogsmeade permission form and looked at it, no longer grinning. It would be wonderful to visit Hogsmeade on weekends; she knew it was an entirely wizarding village, and she had never set foot there. But how on earth were they going to persuade Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia to sign the forms?

She looked over at the alarm clock. It was now two o'clock in the morning.

Deciding that she'd worry about the Hogsmeade forms when she woke up, James got back into bed with Harry who reached up to cross off another day on the chart he'd made for himself, counting down the days left until they return to Hogwarts. Then he took off his glasses and lay down; eyes open, facing his three birthday cards and James who snuggled into his chest and he wrapped an arm around her to get more comfortable.

Extremely unusual though she was, at that moment James Black felt just like everyone else — glad, for the first time in her life, that it was good birthday for her younger cousin.

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So did you guys like it? James and Harry only have a platonic relationship, even though it is a strong one, they will never have romantic feelings for the other. This is a JamesxFred story and will stay that way. Harry will be with some else who I have not decided.

KrisxCross out~


	2. Chapter 2

The second chapter for book three, is here! Lol that reminds of that line from that one song, "The princess is here!" XD. So I hope you like it because this was fun to write =)!

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James and Harry went down to breakfast the next morning to find the three Dursleys already sitting around the kitchen table. They were watching a brand-new television, a welcome-home-for-the-summer present for Dudley, who had been complaining loudly about the long walk between the fridge and the television in the living room.

Dudley had spent most of the summer in the kitchen, his piggy little eyes fixed on the screen and his five chins wobbling as he ate continually. James was disgusted by the mere sight of him and didn't like being in the same room as him but she was hungry, damn it! Nothing got in the way of a hungry James Black and her food.

James sat down on Aunt Petunia's left, a scrawny horse faced woman that James was glad her mother did not have. Far from wishing Harry a happy birthday, none of the Dursleys made any sign that they had noticed they entered the room, but they were far too used to this to care.

She helped herself and Harry to a piece of toast, some eggs, two pieces of bacon with some orange juice and then looked up at the reporter on the television, who was halfway through a report on an escaped convict.

"… the public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hot line has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately."

"Black?" James asked quietly her stomach hurt, thinking she may be related to this 'convict.'

"No need to tell us he's no good," snorted Uncle Vernon, staring over the top of his newspaper at the prisoner. "Look at the state of him, the filthy layabout! Look at his hair! Plus he shares the girl's last name, no one who has that name can be good."

He shot a nasty look sideways at Harry, whose untidy hair had always been a source of great annoyance to Uncle Vernon. Compared to the man on the television, however, whose gaunt face was surrounded by a matted, elbow-length tangle, James felt sick, that man was her father. He looked just like him just sicker and dirtier with really messed up hair.

The reporter had reappeared.

"The Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries will announce today —"

"Hang on!" barked Uncle Vernon, staring furiously at the reporter. "You didn't tell us where that maniac's escaped from! What use is that? Lunatic could be coming up the street right now!"

James heart clenched as she said nothing not wanting the Dursley's to know. She would tell Harry when they were alone.

Aunt Petunia, who was bony and horse-faced, whipped around and peered intently out of the kitchen window. James knew Aunt Petunia would simply love to be the one to call the hot line number. She was the nosiest woman in the world and spent most of her life spying on the boring, law-abiding neighbors.

"When will they learn," said Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his large purple fist, "that hanging's the only way to deal with these people?"

James almost choked on her orange juice at what he said.

"Very true," said Aunt Petunia, who was still squinting into next door's runner-beans. James felt sicker and stopped eating, she saw Harry look at her with a frown from his own food but she waved him off with a "I'll tell you later" look.

Uncle Vernon drained his teacup, glanced at his watch, and added, "I'd better be off in a minute, Petunia. Marge's train gets in at ten."

James, whose thoughts had been on her escaped convict of a father, was brought back to earth with an unpleasant slap

"Aunt Marge?" they blurted out. "Sh-she's not coming here, is she?"

Aunt Marge was Uncle Vernon's sister. Even though she was not a blood relative of theirs (whose mother had been Aunt Petunia's sisters), they had been forced to call her 'Aunt' all their life. Aunt Marge lived in the country, in a house with a large garden, where she bred bulldogs.

She didn't often stay at Privet Drive, because she couldn't bear to leave her precious dogs, but each of her visits stood out horribly vividly in their minds.

At Dudley's fifth birthday party, Aunt Marge had whacked Harry around the shins and James around her waist with her walking stick to stop them from beating Dudley at musical statues.

A few years later, she had turned up at Christmas with a computerized robot for Dudley and a box of dog biscuits for Harry with a collar for James. James had spited the woman by wearing it, barking, running on her hands and knees her tongue sticking out.

On her last visit, the year before they started at Hogwarts, Harry had accidentally trodden on the tail of her favorite dog. Ripper had chased Harry out into the garden and up a tree, and Aunt Marge had refused to call him off until past midnight. When Ripper had tried to come back in James had slammed the door shut before he could get in and she and Aunt Marge had a row until it ended with James pointing a hot ended poker that had been near the fire place. Ripper was not allowed in the house afterwards and Ripper left James alone after she had kicked him for going after Harry again.

The memory of this incident still brought tears of laughter to Dudley's eyes.

"Marge'll be here for a week," Uncle Vernon snarled, "and while we're on the subject," he pointed a fat finger threateningly at them, "we need to get a few things straight before I go and collect her."

Dudley smirked and withdrew his gaze from the television. Watching them being bullied by Uncle Vernon was Dudley's favorite form of entertainment.

"Firstly," growled Uncle Vernon, "you'll keep a civil tongue in your head when you're talking to Marge."

"All right," they said bitterly, "if she does when she's talking to us."

"Secondly," said Uncle Vernon, acting as though he had not heard their reply, "as Marge doesn't know anything about your abnormality, I don't want any — any funny stuff while she's here. You behave yourself, got me?"

"I will if she does," they said through gritted teeth.

"And thirdly," said Uncle Vernon, his mean little eyes now slits in his great purple face, "we've told Marge you attend St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys, boy. Also that you, girl, Go to St. Claudia's Secure Center for Lost Causes for Girls."

"What?" They yelled. James was beyond pissed at what they had said about them to that ghastly woman.

"And you'll be sticking to that story, freaks, or there'll be trouble," spat Uncle Vernon.

They sat there, white-faced and furious, staring at Uncle Vernon, hardly able to believe it. Aunt Marge coming for a weeklong visit — it was the worst birthday present the Dursleys had ever given him, including that pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks.

"Well, Petunia," said Uncle Vernon, getting heavily to his feet, "I'll be off to the station, then. Want to come along for the ride, Dudders?"

"No, he's too busy stuffing himself, into oblivion." James whispered to Harry who snorted.

"No," said Dudley, whose attention had returned to the television now that Uncle Vernon had finished threatening them.

"Duddy's got to make himself smart for his auntie," said Aunt Petunia, smoothing Dudley's thick blond hair. "Mummy's bought him a lovely new bow-tie."

"Like you can see it under his chins," Harry whispered to James who smirked, she knew she would rub off on him one day it almost brought tears to her eyes. She was so proud.

Uncle Vernon clapped Dudley on his porky shoulder.

"See you in a bit, then," he said, and he left the kitchen.

James, who had been sitting and whispering to Harry, had a sudden idea. Abandoning her cousin, she got quickly to her feet and followed Uncle Vernon to the front door. Harry quickly scrambled after her, wanting to know what on earth she was doing.

Uncle Vernon was pulling on his car coat.

"I'm not taking you two," he snarled as he turned to see James and Harry watching him.

"Like we wanted to come," said James coldly Harry nodding firmly in agreement. "We wanted to ask you something."

Uncle Vernon eyed them suspiciously.

"Third years at Hog — at our school are allowed to visit the village sometimes," said James and Harry suddenly understood the plan..

"So?" snapped Uncle Vernon, taking his car keys from a hook next to the door.

"We need you to sign the permission form," said Harry in a rush.

"And why should I do that?" sneered Uncle Vernon.

"Well," said James, choosing her words carefully, "it'll be hard work, pretending to Aunt Marge we go to those St. Whatsits places…"

"St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys and St. Claudia's Secure Center for Lost Causes for Girls!" bellowed Uncle Vernon, and James was pleased to hear a definite note of panic in Uncle Vernon's voice.

"Exactly," said Harry, looking calmly up into Uncle Vernon's large, purple face. "It's a lot to remember. We'll have to make it sound convincing, won't we? What if we accidentally let something slip?"

"You'll both get the stuffing knocked out of you, won't you?" roared Uncle Vernon, advancing on Harry and James with his fist raised. But they stood their ground.

"Knocking the stuffing out of us won't make Aunt Marge forget what we could tell her and you'll be having that one wizard from the train station after you," James said grimly.

Uncle Vernon stopped, his fist still raised, his face an ugly puce.

"But if you sign our permission forms," Harry went on quickly, "We swear we'll remember where we are supposed to go to school, and we'll act like a Mug — like we're normal and everything."

They could tell that Uncle Vernon was thinking it over, even if his teeth were bared and a vein was throbbing in his temple.

"Right," he snapped finally. "I shall monitor your behavior carefully during Marge's visit. If, at the end of it, you've both toed the line and kept to the story, I'll sign your ruddy forms."

He wheeled around, pulled open the front door, and slammed it so hard that one of the little panes of glass at the top fell out.

They didn't return to the kitchen. They went back upstairs to their bedroom. If they were going to act like real Muggles, they'd better start now. Slowly and sadly Harry gathered up all his presents and his birthday cards and hid them under the loose floorboard with his homework. Then he went to Hedwig's cage. Errol seemed to have recovered; he and Hedwig were both asleep, heads under their wings. Harry sighed, then poked them both awake.

"Hedwig," he said gloomily, "you're going to have to clear off for a week. Go with Errol. Ron'll look after you. I'll write him a note, explaining. And don't look at me like that" — Hedwig's large amber eyes were reproachful — "it's not my fault. It's the only way we'll be allowed to visit Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione."

Ten minutes later, Errol and Hedwig (who had a note to Ron bound to her leg) soared out of the window and out of sight. James put the cage away, her mind far away from her father.

But they didn't have long to brood. In next to no time, Aunt Petunia was shrieking up the stairs for them to come down and get ready to welcome their guest.

"Do something about your hair!" Aunt Petunia snapped as Harry reached the hall. James was perfect and they both knew, Marge would be pissed about it.

James couldn't see the point of trying to make Harry's hair lie flat. Aunt Marge loved criticizing them, so the untidier he looked, the happier she would be. James, herself just liked to piss the woman off. Though she made sure that she wore old clothes that were wrinkled and had holes, so Marge had something to say about her and not that she looked like a hooker, like she always did.

All too soon, there was a crunch of gravel outside as Uncle Vernon's car pulled back into the driveway, then the clunk of the car doors and footsteps on the garden path.

"Get the door!" Aunt Petunia hissed at Harry.

James wanted to run back up stairs and hide, as Harry went and opened the door.

On the threshold stood Aunt Marge. She was very like Uncle Vernon: large, beefy, and purple-faced, she even had a mustache, though not as bushy as his. In one hand she held an enormous suitcase, and tucked under the other was an old and evil-tempered bulldog.

"Where's my Dudders?" roared Aunt Marge. "Where's my neffy poo?"

James bit her tongue and stayed smiling an angle like smile that she knew Harry was thinking it was painful. Dudley came waddling down the hall, his blond hair plastered flat to his fat head, a bow tie just visible under his many chins. Aunt Marge thrust the suitcase into Harry's stomach, knocking the wind out of him, seized Dudley in a tight one-armed hug, and planted a large kiss on his cheek. James bit her tongue hoping the bitch would just ignore her existence so she didn't have to hear her shit.

James knew perfectly well that Dudley only put up with Aunt Marge's hugs because he was well paid for it, and sure enough, when they broke apart, Dudley had a crisp twenty-pound note clutched in his fat fist.

"Petunia!" shouted Aunt Marge, striding past Harry as though he was a hat-stand and James as though she were statue with bird shit on it. Aunt Marge and Aunt Petunia kissed, or rather, Aunt Marge bumped her large jaw against Aunt Petunias bony cheekbone.

Uncle Vernon now came in, smiling jovially as he shut the door.

"Tea, Marge?" he said. "And what will Ripper take?"

"Ripper can have some tea out of my saucer," said Aunt Marge as they all proceeded into the kitchen, leaving the two magical cousins alone in the hall with the suitcase. But they weren't complaining; any excuse not to be with Aunt Marge was fine by them, so they began to heave the case upstairs into the spare bedroom, taking as long as they could.

By the time they got back to the kitchen, Aunt Marge had been supplied with tea and fruitcake, and Ripper was lapping noisily in the corner. James saw Aunt Petunia wince slightly as specks of tea and drool flecked her clean floor. Aunt Petunia hated animals, although she tolerated Aero since she didn't have to see him or clean up after him. James was watching Ripper like a hawk if he went near their room and tried to kill Aero she'd kill the damn dog, Hogsmeade or no Hogsmeade.

"Who's looking after the other dogs, Marge?" Uncle Vernon asked.

"Oh, I've got Colonel Fubster managing them," boomed Aunt Marge. "He's retired now, good for him to have something to do. But I couldn't leave poor old Ripper. He pines if he's away from me."

Ripper began to growl again as they sat down. This directed Aunt Marge's attention to them for the first time.

"So!" she barked. "Still here, are you?"

"Yes," James said with a neutral tone.

"Don't you say 'yes' in that ungrateful tone," Aunt Marge growled. "It's damn good of Vernon and Petunia to keep you. Wouldn't have done it myself. You'd both have gone straight to an orphanage if you'd been dumped on my doorstep."

James was bursting to say that she'd rather live in an orphanage than with the Dursleys, but the thought of the Hogsmeade forms stopped her. James forced a smile on her face and Harry tried to as well although his looked more like a grimace.

"Don't you smirk at me!" boomed Aunt Marge. "I can see you haven't improved since I last saw you two. I hoped school would knock some manners into you both." She took a large gulp of tea, wiped her mustache, and said, "Where is it that you send them, again, Vernon?"

"St. Brutus's and St. Claudia's," said Uncle Vernon promptly. "They're both first-rate institution for hopeless cases."

"I see," said Aunt Marge. "Do they use the cane at schools, boy, girl?" she barked across the table.

"Er —"

Uncle Vernon nodded curtly behind Aunt Marge's back.

"Yes," said James. Then, feeling she might as well do the thing properly, she added, "All the time."

"Excellent," said Aunt Marge. "I won't have this namby-pamby, wishy-washy nonsense about not hitting people who deserve it. A good thrashing is what's needed in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred. Have you been beaten often?"

"Oh, yeah," said Harry, "loads of times."

"Yes…" James said with a hitch her voice that she added to pretend to be traumatized at the thought. Harry couldn't act to save his life, so she did it for the both of them.

Aunt Marge narrowed her eyes.

"I still don't like your tone, boy," she said. "If you can speak of your beatings in that casual way, they clearly aren't hitting you hard enough. Petunia, I'd write if I were you. Make it clear that you approve the use of extreme force in this boy's case. The girl seems to at least be learning her lesson."

Perhaps Uncle Vernon was worried that they might forget their bargain; in any case, he changed the subject abruptly, to a subject that made James sick to her stomach.

"Heard the news this morning, Marge? What about that escaped prisoner, eh?"

As Aunt Marge started to make herself at home, James caught herself thinking almost longingly of life at number four without her. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia usually encouraged them to stay out of their way, which they were only too happy to do. Aunt Marge, on the other hand, wanted them under her eye at all times, so that she could boom out suggestions for his improvement. She delighted in comparing Harry with Dudley, and took huge pleasure in buying Dudley expensive presents while glaring at Harry, as though daring him to ask why he hadn't got a present too. She also kept throwing out dark hints about what made Harry and James such an unsatisfactory person.

"You mustn't blame yourself for the way the two turned out, Vernon," she said over lunch on the third day. "If there's something rotten on the inside, there's nothing anyone can do about it."

James tried to concentrate on her food, but her hands shook and her face was starting to burn with anger. Remember the form, she told herself. Think about Hogsmeade. Don't say anything. Don't rise —

Aunt Marge reached for her glass of wine. Harry seemed to be in the same state as James was.

"It's one of the basic rules of breeding," she said. "You see it all the time with dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup —"

At that moment, the wineglass Aunt Marge was holding exploded in her hand. Shards of glass flew in every direction and Aunt Marge sputtered and blinked, her great ruddy face dripping.

"Marge!" squealed Aunt Petunia. "Marge, are you all right?"

"Not to worry," grunted Aunt Marge, mopping her face with her napkin. "Must have squeezed it too hard. Did the same thing at Colonel Fubster's the other day. No need to fuss, Petunia, I have a very firm grip…"

But Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were both looking at Harry and James suspiciously, so they decided they'd better skip dessert and escape from the table as soon as they could. James so busy at not killing the woman had still not told Harry about her father.

Outside in the hall, they leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. It had been a long time since they'd lost control and made something explode. They couldn't afford to let it happen again. The Hogsmeade form wasn't the only thing at stake — if they carried on like that, they'd be in trouble with the Ministry of Magic.

James and Harry was still an underage witch and wizard, and they were forbidden by wizard law to do magic outside school. Their record wasn't exactly clean either. Only last summer they'd gotten an official warning that had stated quite clearly that if the Ministry got wind of any more magic in Privet Drive, they would face expulsion from Hogwarts.

James heard the Dursleys leaving the table and hurried upstairs with Harry so they were out of the way.

James got through the next three days by forcing herself to think about the monster book she had figured out to read whenever Aunt Marge started on them. This worked quite well, though she seemed to get lost in thought, because Aunt Marge started voicing the opinion that Harry was mentally subnormal and that she better not be ignoring her.

At last, at long last, the final evening of Marge's stay arrived.

Aunt Petunia cooked a fancy dinner and Uncle Vernon uncorked several bottles of wine. They got all the way through the soup and the salmon without a single mention of their faults; during the lemon meringue pie, Uncle Vernon bored them a with a long talk about Grunnings, his drill-making company; then Aunt Petunia made coffee and Uncle Vernon brought out a bottle of brandy.

"Can I tempt you, Marge?"

Aunt Marge had already had quite a lot of wine. Her huge face was very red.

"Just a small one, then," she chuckled. "A bit more than that… and a bit more… that's the ticket."

Dudley was eating his fourth slice of pie.

Aunt Petunia was sipping coffee with her little finger sticking out. James really wanted to disappear into their bedroom, but she met Uncle Vernon's angry little eyes and knew they would have to sit it out.

"Aah," said Aunt Marge, smacking her lips and putting the empty brandy glass back down. "Excellent nosh, Petunia. It's normally just a fry-up for me of an evening, with twelve dogs to look after…" She burped richly and patted her great tweed stomach. "Pardon me. But I do like to see a healthy-sized boy," she went on, winking at Dudley. "You'll be a proper-sized man, Dudders, like your father. Yes, I'll have a spot more brandy, Vernon…"

"Now, this one here —"

She jerked her head at Harry, who felt his stomach clench. James immediately went to the most fascinating chapter about Dragons.

"This one's got a mean, runty look about him. You get that with dogs. I had Colonel Fubster drown one last year. Ratty little thing it was. Weak. Underbred. The girl, though she may be a looker, but she has no class, I'm telling you now she'll be on the corner selling her body before she's 18."

James was reciting page thirty seven through thirty nine of the monster book: Chinese Fireball's feeding habits.

"It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day. Bad blood will out. Now, I'm saying nothing against your family, Petunia" — she patted Aunt Petunia's bony hand with her shovel-like one "but your sisters were bad eggs. They turn up in the best families. Then thy ran off with those wastrels and here's the result right in front of us."

James was staring at her plate, a funny ringing in her ears. Chinese Fireballs like to eat in packs, the female will make sure that her young is full before eating as well, she thought. Aunt Marge's voice seemed to be boring into her like one of Uncle Vernon's drills.

"This Potter and Black," said Aunt Marge loudly, seizing the brandy bottle and splashing more into her glass and over the tablecloth, "you never told me what they did?"

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were looking extremely tense. Dudley had even looked up from his pie to gape at his parents.

"they — didn't work," said Uncle Vernon, with half a glance at Harry and James. "Unemployed."

"As I expected!" said Aunt Marge, taking a huge swig of brandy and wiping her chin on her sleeve. "A no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger who —"

"He was not," said Harry suddenly. The table went very quiet. Harry was shaking all over. James herself was mad, her father may have been in jail but from here memories and the photographs she had he was nothing like that.

"MORE BRANDY!" yelled Uncle Vernon, who had gone very white. He emptied the bottle into Aunt Marge's glass. "You, boy, girl," he snarled at them. "Go to bed, go on —"

"No, Vernon," hiccupped Aunt Marge, holding up a hand, her tiny bloodshot eyes fixed on Harry's. "Go on, boy, go on. Proud of your parents, are you? They go and get themselves killed in a car crash (drunk, I expect) —"

"They didn't die in a car crash!" said Harry, who found himself on his feet.

"They died in a car crash, you nasty little liar, and left you to be a burden on their decent, hardworking relatives!" screamed Aunt Marge, swelling with fury. "You are an insolent, ungrateful little —"

But Aunt Marge suddenly stopped speaking. For a moment, it looked as though words had failed her. She seemed to be swelling with inexpressible anger — but the swelling didn't stop.

Her great red face started to expand, her tiny eyes bulged, and her mouth stretched too tightly for speech — next second, several buttons had just burst from her tweed jacket and pinged off the walls — she was inflating like a monstrous balloon, her stomach bursting free of her tweed waistband, each of her fingers blowing up like a salami…

"MARGE!" yelled Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia together as Aunt Marge's whole body began to rise off her chair toward the ceiling. She was entirely round, now, like a vast life buoy with piggy eyes, and her hands and feet stuck out weirdly as she drifted up into the air, making apoplectic popping noises. Ripper came skidding into the room, barking madly.

"NOOOOOOO!"

Uncle Vernon seized one of Marge's feet and tried to pull her down again, but was almost lifted from the floor himself. A second later, Ripper leapt forward and sank his teeth into Uncle Vernon's leg.

Harry tore from the dining room before anyone could stop him, heading for the cupboard under the stairs. The cupboard door burst magically open as he reached it. James was right behind him shaking in pure furry, she was never so pissed off in her life.

In seconds, they had heaved their trunks to the front door. Harry then sprinted upstairs and threw himself under the bed, wrenching up the loose floorboard, and grabbed the pillowcase full of his books and birthday presents. James grabbed her money and all of Aero's thing including said kitten was now on her shoulder, knowing to cooperate with his irate owner. Harry wriggled out, seized Hedwig's empty cage, and they dashed back downstairs to his trunk, just as Uncle Vernon burst out of the dining room, his trouser leg in bloody tatters.

"COME BACK IN HERE!" he bellowed. "COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!"

But a reckless rage had come over James. She kicked her trunk open, pulled out her wand, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon.

"She deserved it," James said, breathing very fast. "She deserved what she got. You keep away from us."

Harry fumbled behind him for the latch on the door.

"We're going," Harry said. "We've had enough."

And in the next moment, they were out in the dark, quiet street, heaving their heavy trunks behind them, Hedwig's cage under Harry's arm and Aero in James's hoodie pocket sleeping.

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So how do you like this chapter? Better? A good mix of James and Harry? Review please!

KrisxCross out~


	3. Chapter 3

So here's chapter three! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! So now my cousin can't say nothing because she hasn't updated nothing and I have, multiple times, in fact…and she calls me the lazy ass. Hmph shows what she knows! =P

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They were several streets away before James collapsed onto a low wall in Magnolia Crescent, panting from the effort of dragging her trunk; Harry was in better shape but not by much. She sat quite still, anger still surging through her, listening to the frantic thumping of her heart and feeling Aero breathing seemed to cool her down.

But after ten minutes alone in the dark street, a new emotion overtook him: fear. James just put her arms around Harry scared to not have contact with her cousin.

They were stranded, quite alone, in the dark Muggle world, with absolutely nowhere to go.

"I'm so screwed. I did some serious magic back there." Harry said with his head on James shoulder.

"You were emotional, it happens. It was accidental magic Harry. I'm sure they'll understand." James said convincingly as Harry seemed to calm down and hold her closer.

"We still have nowhere to go." Harry pointed out as he sighed dejectedly.

"We'll think of something or we can get lucky." James said with a cheerful voice, the complete opposite of how she really felt but she kept it together for Harry.

"We always, seem to get lucky." Harry said with a laugh and James smiled before disentangling herself from him and sitting on her trunk twirling her wand around with her fingers as she went into thought.

They didn't have any Muggle money, either, they had a little wizard gold in the money bag at the bottom of Harry's trunk and her pocket. She had no idea what to do but she didn't show it, she just looked thoughtful, mindful of Harry watching her.

A funny prickling on the back of her neck had made James feel she was being watched, but the street appeared to be deserted, and no lights shone from any of the large square houses.

She bent over her trunk again, but almost immediately stood up once more, her hand clenched on her wand Harry seemed to be on the same page with his own wand. They had sensed rather than heard it: someone or something was standing in the narrow gap between the garage and the fence behind them. James squinted at the black alleyway. If only it would move, then she'd know whether it was just a stray cat or — something else.

"Lumos," Harry muttered, and a light appeared at the end of his wand, almost dazzling him. He held it high over his head, and the pebble-dashed walls of number two suddenly sparkled; the garage door gleamed, and between them they saw, quite distinctly, the hulking outline of something very big, with wide, gleaming eyes.

Harry stepped backward into James. His legs tangled in her's and he tripped. His wand flew out of his hand as he flung out an arm to break his fall, and he landed, hard, in the gutter.

There was a deafening BANG, and James threw up her hands to shield her eyes against a sudden blinding light…

With a yell, Harry rolled back onto the pavement, just in time. A second later, a gigantic pair of wheels and headlights screeched to a halt exactly where Harry had just been lying.

They belonged, as James saw when she raised her head, to a triple-decker, violently purple bus, which had appeared out of thin air. Gold lettering over the windshield spelled The Knight Bus.

For a split second, James wondered if she had been the one to fall. Then a conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to speak loudly to the night.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve—"

The conductor stopped abruptly. He had just caught sight of Harry, who was still sitting on the ground. Then he saw James and his eyes wandered downward and James was quickly reminded of how she wasn't flat chested anymore. Harry snatched up his wand again and scrambled to his feet, James stepped up behind Harry. Close up, she saw that Stan Shunpike was only a few years older than they were, eighteen or nineteen at most, with large, protruding ears and quite a few pimples.

"What were you doin' down there?" said Stan, dropping his professional manner and snapping his eyes from James's chest to Harry.

"Fell over," said Harry.

"'Choo fall over for?" sniggered Stan.

"Because he thought it'd be funny" James said sarcastically as she checked Harry over for injuries. One of the knees in his jeans was torn, and the hand he had thrown out to break his fall was bleeding. He suddenly remembered why he had fallen over and turned around quickly to stare at the alleyway between the garage and fence, James looked quickly too. The Knight Bus's headlamps were flooding it with light, and it was empty.

"'Choo lookin' at?" said Stan.

"There was a big black thing," said Harry, pointing uncertainly into the gap. "Like a dog… but massive…"

James's stomach tightened, her dad, she believed was an animangus from what her memories seemed to point at and a big black dog one at that.

She looked around at Stan, whose mouth was slightly open. With a feeling of unease, Harry saw Stan's eyes move to the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Woss that on your 'ead?" said Stan abruptly.

"Nothing," said Harry quickly, flattening his hair over his scar. At least he's not looking at my chest, James thought with a frown.

"Woss your name?" Stan persisted.

"Neville Longbottom," said Harry, saying the first name that came into his head.

"Hermione Granger," James said her only friend that was a girl besides Ginny coming to mind.

"So — so this bus," Harry went on quickly, hoping to distract Stan, "did you say it goes anywhere?"

"Yep," said Stan proudly, "anywhere you like, 'long it's on land. Can't do nuffink underwater.

"Ere," he said, looking suspicious again, "you did flag us down, dincha? Stuck out your wand 'and, dincha?"

"Yes," said Harry quickly. "Listen, how much would it be to get to London for the both of us?"

"Twenty two Sickles for separate bunks, fifteen for one," said Stan, "but for eighteen you get 'ot chocolate, and for twenty you get an 'ot-water bottle an' a toofbrush in the color of your choice."

James rummaged in her pockets and found out she only had fifteen sickles, she handed them to Stan who stared right at her chest, again. Harry and Stan then lifted their trunks, with Hedwig's cage balanced on top of Harry's, up the steps of the bus. James just walked on the bus, she had a bad feeling someone was staring at her ass though.

There were no seats; instead, half a dozen brass bedsteads stood beside the curtained windows. Candles were burning in brackets beside each bed, illuminating the wood-paneled walls. A tiny wizard in a nightcap at the rear of the bus muttered, "Not now, thanks, I'm pickling some slugs" and rolled over in his sleep.

"You both 'ave this one," Stan whispered, shoving Harry's trunk under the bed right behind the driver and James above it, who was sitting in an armchair in front of the steering wheel. "This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This is Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger, Ern."

Ernie Prang, an elderly wizard wearing very thick glasses, nodded to them, who sat down on the bed with a bit of sighs of relief.

"Take'er away, Ern," said Stan, sitting down in the armchair next to Ernie's.

There was another tremendous BANG, and the next moment Harry found himself flat on his bed, thrown backward by the speed of the Knight Bus. James had found herself in Stan's arms and she quickly stood up embarrassed as Stan started to eye her up and down so she went and sat on the bed with her hands locked on the bed to keep her upright.

Pulling himself up, Harry stared out of the dark window and saw that they were now bowling along a completely different street. Stan was watching Harry's stunned face with great enjoyment and then lust when he saw James who just looked away from the older boy.

"This is where we was before you flagged us down," he said. "Where are we, Ern? Somewhere in Wales?"

"Ar," said Ernie.

"How come the Muggles don't hear the bus?" said Harry.

"Them!" said Stan contemptuously. "Don' listen properly, do they? Don' look properly either. Never notice nuffink, they don'."

"Best go wake up Madam Marsh, Stan," said Ern. "We'll be in Abergavenny in a minute."

Stan passed them and disappeared up a narrow wooden staircase. James was still looking out of the window, feeling increasingly nervous. Ernie didn't seem to have mastered the use of a steering wheel. The Knight Bus kept mounting the pavement, but it didn't hit anything; lines of lampposts, mailboxes, and trash cans jumped out of its way as it approached and back into position once it had passed.

Stan came back downstairs, followed by a faintly green witch wrapped in a traveling cloak.

"'Ere you go, Madam Marsh," said Stan happily as Ern stamped on the brake and the beds slid a foot or so toward the front of the bus. Madam Marsh clamped a handkerchief to her mouth and tottered down the steps.

Stan threw her bag out after her and rammed the doors shut; there was another loud BANG, and they were thundering down a narrow country lane, trees leaping out of the way.

James wouldn't have been able to sleep even if she had been traveling on a bus that didn't keep banging loudly and jumping a hundred miles at a time. Her stomach churned as Stan continued to eye her, even though Harry seemed oblivious and he focused his gaze out the window.

Stan had unfurled a copy of the Daily Prophet and was now reading with his tongue between his teeth, something James was sort of grateful for. A large photograph of a sunken-faced man with long, matted hair blinked slowly at Harry from the front page. James paled at the picture and she looked sick, maybe Stan won't notice the similarities between the two.

"That man!" Harry said and James bit back a groan. "He was on the Muggle news!"

Stanley turned to the front page and chuckled.

"Sirius Black," he said, nodding. "'Course 'e was on the Muggle news, Neville. Where you been?"

He gave a superior sort of chuckle at Harry's shocked look, removed the front page, and handed it to Harry. James pointedly looked anywhere but at Harry and the paper, she was starting to get tearful.

"You oughta read the papers more, Neville."

Harry held the paper up to the candlelight and read:

BLACK STILL AT LARGE

Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture,

"Azkaban" James gasped, going even paler, what had her father done?

the Ministry of Magic confirmed today. "We are doing all we can to recapture Black," said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, "and we beg the magical community to remain calm."

Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis.

"Well, really, I had to, don't you know," said an irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it — who'd believe him if he did?"

While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse.

James had frozen, no that couldn't be…her father…he didn't…why would he?

Harry looked into the shadowed eyes of Sirius Black, the only part of the sunken face that seemed alive then at James. He could see similarities but from the way James looked like she was going to faint he felt angry at the man for causing his strong cousin to seem so fragile looking and glossy eyed.

"Scary-lookin' fing, inee?" said Stan, who had mistaken James's pale face and shocked expression as fear.

"He murdered thirteen people?" said Harry, handing the page back to Stan and grabbing James hand, "with one curse?"

"Yep," said Stan, "in front of witnesses an' all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused, dinnit, Ern?"

"Ar," said Ern darkly. James felt slightly dizzy, at what she heard, how could he?

Stan swiveled in his armchair, his hands on the back, the better to look at Harry and James.

"Black woz a big supporter of You-Know-'Oo," he said.

"No." James said her disbelief in her voice.

"What, Voldemort?" said Harry hoping they would pay attention to the name and not James's denial.

Even Stan's pimples went white; Ern jerked the steering wheel so hard that a whole farmhouse had to jump aside to avoid the bus.

"You outta your tree?" yelped Stan. "'Choo say 'is name for?"

"Sorry," said Harry hastily. "Sorry, I — I forgot —"

"Forgot!" said Stan weakly. "Blimey, my 'eart's goin' that fast…"

"So — so Black was a supporter of You-Know-Who?" Harry prompted apologetically as he squeezed James's hand.

"Yeah," said Stan, still rubbing his chest. "Yeah, that's right. Very close to You-Know-'Oo, they say… anyway, when little 'Arry Potter got the better of You-Know-'Oo" — Harry nervously flattened his bangs down again — "all You-Know-'Oo's supporters was tracked down, wasn't they, Ern? Most of 'em knew it was all over, wiv You-Know-'Oo gone, and they came quiet. But not Sirius Black. I 'eard he thought 'e'd be second-in-command once You-Know-'Oo 'ad taken over. Anyway, they cornered Black in the middle of a street full of Muggles an' Black took out 'is wand and 'e blasted 'alf the street apart, an' a wizard got it, an' so did a dozen Muggles what got in the way. 'Orrible, eh? An' you know what Black did then?" Stan continued in a dramatic whisper.

"What?" said Harry.

"Laughed," said Stan. "Jus' stood there an' laughed. An' when reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic got there, 'e went wiv em quiet as anyfink, still laughing 'is 'ead off. 'Cos 'e's mad, inee, Ern? Inee mad?"

James whole world fell then, was her father really done that? Why, he had seemed so against Voldemort in her memories. No she wouldn't believe it, she refused!

"If he weren't when he went to Azkaban, he will be now," said Ern in his slow voice. "I'd blow meself up before I set foot in that place. Serves him right, mind you… after what he did…"

"They 'ad a job coverin' it up, din' they, Ern?" Stan said. "'Ole street blown up an' all them Muggles dead. What was it they said 'ad 'appened, Ern?"

"Gas explosion," grunted Ernie.

"An' now 'e's out," said Stan, examining the newspaper picture of Black's gaunt face again. "Never been a breakout from Azkaban before, 'as there, Ern? Beats me 'ow 'e did it. Frightenin', eh? Mind, I don't fancy 'is chances against them Azkaban guards, eh, Ern?"

Ernie suddenly shivered. "Talk about summat else, Stan, there's a good lad. Them Azkaban guards give me the collywobbles."

Stan put the paper away reluctantly, and James leaned against the knight bus window feeling as if she had been sucker punched in the gut. The Knight Bus rolled through the darkness, scattering bushes and wastebaskets, telephone booths and trees, and James laid , restless and miserable, on her feather bed as Harry petted her head. One by one, wizards and witches in dressing gowns and slippers descended from the upper floors to leave the bus. They all looked very pleased to go.

Finally, Harry and James were the only passengers left.

"Right then, Neville, Hermione," said Stan, clapping his hands, "whereabouts in London?"

"Diagon Alley," said Harry still petting James who looked sick.

"Righto," said Stan. "'Old tight, then."

BANG.

They were thundering along Charing Cross Road. James sat up and watched buildings and benches squeezing themselves out of the Knight Bus's way. The sky was getting a little lighter. They would go to Gringotts for some money for a room at the leaky cauldron.

Ern slammed on the brakes and the Knight Bus skidded to a halt in front of a small and shabby-looking pub, the Leaky Cauldron, behind which lay the magical entrance to Diagon Alley.

"Thanks," Harry said to Ern.

James jumped down the steps and took huge gulps of fresh air that seemed to help her nausea. Harry helped Stan lower their trunks and Hedwig's cage onto the pavement. Aero mewed from James pocket and James took the kitten out and began to pet him causing him to purr.

"Well," said Harry. "Bye then!"

But Stan wasn't paying attention. Still standing in the doorway to the bus he was goggling at the shadowy entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.

"There you are, Harry…James," said a voice

Before Harry could turn, he felt a hand on his shoulder. At the same time, Stan shouted, "Blimey! Ern, come 'ere! Come 'ere!"

James looked up at the owner of the hand on her shoulder and felt a bucketful of ice cascade into her stomach — they had walked right into Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself.

Stan leapt onto the pavement beside them.

"What didja call Neville and Hermione, Minister?" he said excitedly.

Fudge, a portly little man in a long, pinstriped cloak, looked cold and exhausted.

"Neville? Hermione?" he repeated, frowning. "This is Harry Potter and James B-Black."

"I knew it!" Stan shouted gleefully and he seemed to blanch at James's last name.

"Ern! Ern! Guess 'oo Neville is, Ern! 'E's 'Arry Potter! I can see 'is scar!"

"Yes," said Fudge testily, "well, I'm very glad the Knight Bus picked Harry and James up, but they and I need to step inside the Leaky Cauldron now…"

Fudge increased the pressure on their shoulders, and James found herself being steered inside the pub.

A stooping figure bearing a lantern appeared through the door behind the bar. It was Tom, the wizened, toothless landlord.

"You've got them, Minister!" said Tom. "Will you be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?"

"Perhaps a pot of tea," said Fudge, who still hadn't let go of Harry and James.

There was a loud scraping and puffing from behind them, and Stan and Ern appeared, carrying Harry's and James's trunks and Hedwig's cage and looking around excitedly.

"'Ow come you di'n't tell us 'oo you are, eh, Neville?" said Stan, beaming at Harry, while Ernie's owlish face peered interestedly over Stan's shoulder. James felt a bit hurt that they ignored her, fine like she wanted that perv's attention anyway!

"And a private parlour, please, Tom," said Fudge pointedly.

"Bye," Harry said miserably to Stan and Ern as Tom beckoned Fudge toward the passage that led from the bar.

"Bye, Neville!" called Stan.

Fudge marched Harry and James along the narrow passage after Tom's lantern, and then into a small parlour. Tom clicked his fingers, a fire burst into life in the grate, and he bowed himself out of the room.

"Sit down, you two," said Fudge, indicating a chair by the fire.

James sat down, feeling goose bumps rising up her arms despite the glow of the fire. Fudge took off his pinstriped cloak and tossed it aside, then hitched up the trousers of his bottle-green suit and sat down opposite Harry. James just curled into herself petting Aero with a sick look on her face.

"I am Cornelius Fudge, Harry, James. The Minister of Magic."

Harry already knew this, of course; he had seen Fudge once before, but as he had been wearing his father's Invisibility Cloak at the time, Fudge wasn't to know that. James herself heard Stan and Tom call the man minister but she could careless, the man probably didn't like her because of her father.

Tom the innkeeper reappeared, wearing an apron over his nightshirt and bearing a tray of tea and crumpets. He placed the tray on a table between Fudge and Harry and left the parlour, closing the door behind him.

"Well, Harry, James," said Fudge, pouring out tea, "you've had us all in a right flap, I don't mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle's house like that! I'd started to think… but you're safe, and that's what matters."

Fudge buttered himself a crumpet and pushed the plate toward Harry, ignoring James. James was getting pissed, she hadn't known what her father did, why were they ignoring her?

"Eat, Harry, you look dead on your feet. Now then… You will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Miss Marjorie Dursley. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department were dispatched to Privet Drive a few hours ago. Miss Dursley has been punctured and her memory has been modified. She has no recollection of the incident at all. So that's that, and no harm done."

Fudge smiled at Harry over the rim of his teacup, rather like an uncle surveying a favorite nephew and gave James side glances like she was a ticking time bomb. Harry, who couldn't believe his ears, opened his mouth to speak, couldn't think of anything to say, and closed it again.

"Ah, you're worrying about the reaction of your aunt and uncle?" said Fudge. "Well, I won't deny that they are extremely angry, Harry, but they are prepared to take you back next summer as long as you stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays."

James noticed she was being ignored now and that she didn't understand why.

"We always stay at Hogwarts during the holidays." James said with a blank look at Fudge who seemed to scoot away from her.

"Now, now, I'm sure you'll feel differently once you've calmed down," said Fudge in a worried tone. "They are your family, after all, and I'm sure you are fond of each other — er — very deep down."

"Sure," Harry said sarcastically not liking the way James was getting treated.

"So all that remains," said Fudge, now buttering himself a second crumpet, "is to decide where you're going to spend the last two weeks of your vacation. I suggest you take a room here at the Leaky Cauldron and…"

"And about, the accidental magic at the house…it doesn't add to the past dealings I had with it, right?" Harry asked.

Unless James's eyes were deceiving her, Fudge was suddenly looking awkward.

"Circumstances change, Harry… We have to take into account… in the present climate… Surely you don't want to be expelled?"

"Of course I don't," said Harry and James was getting pissed about the whole lets ignore James thing.

"Well then, what's all the fuss about?" laughed Fudge. "Now, have a crumpet, Harry…James, while I go and see if Tom's got a room for you…two."

Fudge strode out of the parlor and James stared after him. There was something extremely odd going on. Why had Fudge been waiting for Harry at the Leaky Cauldron, if not to punish him for what he'd done? And now James came to think of it, surely it wasn't usual for the Minister of Magic himself to get involved in matters of underage magic?

Fudge came back, accompanied by Tom the innkeeper.

"Room eleven's free, Harry…James," said Fudge. "I think you'll be very comfortable just one thing, and I'm sure you'll understand… I don't want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you're to be back here before dark each night. Sure you'll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on you for me."

"Okay," said Harry slowly, "but why?"

"Don't want to lose you again, do we?" said Fudge with a hearty laugh. "No, no… best we know where you are… I mean…"

Fudge cleared his throat loudly and picked up his pinstriped cloak.

"Well, I'll be off, plenty to do, you know…"

"This has something to do with my father." James said with a glare at the man.

Fudge's finger slipped on the silver fastenings of his cloak.

"What's that? Oh, you've heard - well, no, not yet, but it's only a matter of time. The Azkaban guards have never yet failed… and they are angrier than I've ever seen them."

Fudge shuddered slightly at the glare James was giving him.

"So, I'll say good-bye."

He held out his hand and Harry, shaking it. James suddenly decided to ask a question she's been wondering.

"Er — Minister? Can I ask you something?"

"Certainly," said Fudge with a forced smile.

"Why didn't anyone tell me about my father?" James asked with a frown on her face.

Fudge was looking uncomfortable.

"Ah," he said. "We thought that it might be best that you not know, it could have traumatized you."

"And now? I should have been the first told. I am his daughter, you had no right to keep this from me. How do you think I feel now, just finding out now from some kid who works on the knight bus." James asked with a blank face and Harry reached out and grabbed James's hand.

"I…Uh…We Had to worn the community, first. They have a right to know-" Fudge was cut off by James who looked ready to spit nails.

"And his daughter didn't? Why don't you speak the truth, minister!" James spat her Black family features coming out more and Fudge was shocked at how much James looked like her father.

"I…Uh…Don't…Know what your saying!" Fudge exclaimed as he looked at James in shock.

"You just don't want me to believe my father was right, you take one look at me and you see him." James said with an intense glare but Harry finally just put his hand over her mouth and shushed her.

"I think it's best you leave, minister." Harry said with a look.

And with a last smile and shake of Harry's hand, Fudge left the room. Tom now moved forward, beaming at them.

"If you'll follow me, Mr. Potter, Miss Black," he said, "I've already taken your things up…"

They followed Tom up a handsome wooden staircase to a door with a brass number eleven on it, which Tom unlocked and opened for them.

Inside was a very comfortable-looking beds, some highly polished oak furniture, a cheerfully crackling fire and, perched on top of the wardrobe —

"Hedwig!" Harry gasped.

The snowy owl clicked her beak and fluttered down onto Harry's arm.

"Very smart owl you've got there," chuckled Tom. "Arrived about five minutes after you did. If there's anything you need, Mr. Potter, Miss Black, don't hesitate to ask."

He gave another bow and left.

James lay on her bed for a long time, absentmindedly stroking Aero. The sky outside the window was changing rapidly from deep, velvety blue to cold, steely gray and then, slowly, to pink shot with gold. James could hardly believe that she'd left Privet Drive only a few hours ago, that her father was a murder that has escaped, that she got into a verbal argument with the Minister of Magic, and that she was now facing two completely Dursley-free weeks with Harry along for the ride.

"It's been a very long night, Aero," she yawned.

Taking one look at Harry to see him still asleep with his glasses on, James fell in to a deep sleep with no dreams as Aero used the girl's stomach for a bed.

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So did you guys like it or not? I've been thinking hard about these chapters and I hope they are coming out right. So review?

KrisxCross out~


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 is here! ! Lol I was bored so I did that. Sooooo, read my story?

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It took James several days to get used to her strange new freedom. Never before had she been able to get up whenever she wanted or eat whatever she fancied. It was refreshing and Aero seemed to like laying on her shoulder as she went out into Diagon Alley.

She could even go wherever she pleased, as long as it was in Diagon Alley and after a fight almost broke out she couldn't leave without Harry, and as this long cobbled street was packed with the most fascinating wizarding shops in the world, Harry felt no desire to break his word to Fudge and stray back into the Muggle world. James thought of it, she was still pisses. The ministry had no right to not tell her anything about her father.

James ate breakfast each morning in the Leaky Cauldron, where she liked watching the other guests: funny little witches from the country, up for a day's shopping; venerable-looking wizards arguing over the latest article in Transfiguration Today; wild-looking warlocks; raucous dwarfs; and once, what looked suspiciously like a hag, who ordered a plate of raw liver from behind a thick woolen balaclava.

After breakfast James and Harry would go out into the backyard, take out her wand, tap the third brick from the left above the trash bin, and stand back as the archway into Diagon Alley opened in the wall.

They spent the long sunny days exploring the shops and eating under the brightly colored umbrellas outside cafes, where his fellow diners were showing one another their purchases ("It's a lunascope, old boy — no more messing around with moon charts, see?") or else discussing the case of Sirius Black

("Personally, I won't let any of the children out alone until he's back in Azkaban and did you hear? He has a daughter in Hogwarts, I've told my children to not speak or go near her. They tried to say she was nice but I'm not taking any chances."). James had felt close to tears when she heard these things but an old man fixed that, she could sit in the bright sunshine outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, Harry finishing all his essays with occasional help from Florean Fortescue himself, who, apart from knowing a great deal about medieval witch burnings and consoling James, gave Harry and James free sundaes every half an hour.

Once James had refilled her money bag with gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts from her vault at Gringotts, she had to exercise a lot of self-control not to spend the whole lot at once.

James wanted to by all her school supplies before anything, she would need a broom, and Oliver had contacted her and said that she would be a chaser. So they went to Quality Quidditch to get her a Nimbus two thousand and one.

Curious to know what the crowd in the shop was staring at, James edged her way inside and squeezed in among the excited witches and wizards until she glimpsed a newly erected podium, on which was mounted the most magnificent broom she had ever seen in his life.

"Just come out — prototype —" a square-jawed wizard was telling his companion.

"It's the fastest broom in the world, isn't it, Dad?" squeaked a boy younger than Harry, who was swinging off his father's arm. James was drooling at the broom and Harry was staring at her with a raised eyebrow, Harry had to restrain himself from buying the broom.

"Irish International Side's just put in an order for seven of these beauties!" the proprietor of the shop told the crowd. "And they're favourites for the World Cup!"

A large witch in front of James moved, and she was able to read the sign next to the broom:

** THE FIREBOLT **

THIS STATE-OF-THE-ART RACING BROOM SPORTS A STREAM-LINED, SUPERFINE HANDLE OF ASH, TREATED WITH A DIAMOND-HARD POLISH AND HAND-NUMBERED WITH ITS OWN REGISTRATION NUMBER. EACH INDIVIDUALLY SELECTED BIRCH TWIG IN THE BROOMTAIL HAS BEEN HONED TO AERODYNAMIC PERFECTION, GIVING THE FIREBOLT UNSURPASSABLE BALANCE AND PINPOINT PRECISION. THE FIREBOLT HAS AN ACCELERATION OF 150 MILES AN HOUR IN TEN SECONDS AND INCORPORATES AN UNBREAKABLE BRAKING CHARM. PRICE ON REQUEST.

Price on request… James didn't like to think how much gold the Firebolt would cost. She had never wanted anything as much in her whole life — but they had never lost a Quidditch match on their Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones, and what was the point in emptying her Gringotts vault for the Firebolt, when she could afford another good broom?

Harry and James didn't ask for the price, but they returned, almost every day after that, just to look at the Firebolt. James had bought a red nimbus two thousand and one and was happy with it.

There were, however, things that they needed to buy. They went to the Apothecary to replenish their store of potions ingredients, and as their school robes were now several inches too short in the arm and leg, they visited Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and bought new ones. Most important of all, they had to buy their new schoolbooks, which would include those for Harry's and James's new subjects, They had both went for Care for magical Creatures, but Harry had went with divination while James had picked Ancient Runes.

James got a surprise as she looked in at the bookshop window. Instead of the usual display of gold-embossed spellbooks the size of paving slabs, there was a large iron cage behind the glass that held about a hundred copies of The Monster Book of Monsters. Torn pages were flying everywhere as the books grappled with each other, locked together in furious wrestling matches and snapping aggressively.

James pulled her booklist out of her pocket and consulted it for the first time. The Monster Book of Monsters was listed as the required book for Care of Magical Creatures. Now James understood why Hagrid had said it would come in useful. She felt relieved; she had been wondering whether Hagrid wanted help with some terrifying new pet.

As James and Harry entered Flourish and Blotts, the manager came hurrying toward them.

"Hogwarts?" he said abruptly. "Come to get your new books?"

"Yes," said Harry, "I need —"

"Get out of the way," said the manager impatiently, brushing Harryaside. He drew on a pair of very thick gloves, picked up a large, knobbly walking stick, and proceeded toward the door of the Monster Books' cage.

"Hang on," said James quickly, "We've already got one of those."

"Have you?" A look of enormous relief spread over the manager's face. "Thank heavens for that. I've been bitten five times already this morning —"

A loud ripping noise rent the air; two of the Monster Books had seized a third and were pulling it apart.

"Stop it! Stop it!" cried the manager, poking the walking stick through the bars and knocking the books apart. "I'm never stocking them again, never! It's been bedlam! I thought we'd seen the worst when we bought two hundred copies of the Invisible Book of Invisibility — cost a fortune, and we never found them…Well… is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Yes," said Harry, looking down his booklist, "I need Unfogging the Future by Cassandra Vablatsky."

"And I need Ancient Words by Henry Ryans." James said with a smile.

"Ah, starting Divination and Ancient Runes, are you?" said the manager, stripping off his gloves and leading Harry and James into the back of the shop, where there was a corner devoted to fortune-telling and to a whole section on Runes. A small table was stacked with volumes such as Predicting the Unpredictable: Insulate Yourself Against Shocks, Broken Balls: When Fortunes Turn Foul, Language of the soul, and Depiction: Chose your Runes carefully.

"Here you are," said the manager, who had climbed a set of steps to take down a thick, black-bound book. "Unfogging the Future and Ancient Words. Very good guide to all your basic fortune-telling methods — palmistry, crystal balls, bird entrails and Ancient words is basically a cheat sheet for the language, how to write them, read them, what they mean."

But James wasn't listening. Her eyes had fallen on another book, which was among a display on a small table: Death Omens — What to Do When You Know the Worst Is Coming.

"Oh, I wouldn't read that if I were you," said the manager lightly, looking to see what James and Harry was staring at. "You'll start seeing death omens everywhere. It's enough to frighten anyone to death."

But James continued to stare at the front cover of the book; it showed a black dog large as a bear, with gleaming eyes. It looked oddly familiar…

The manager pressed Unfogging the Future into Harry's hands and Ancient Words into James's.

"Anything else?" he said.

"Yes," said James, tearing her eyes away from the dog's and dazedly consulting her booklist. "Er — We need Intermediate Transfiguration and The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three."

They emerged from Flourish and Blotts ten minutes later with their new books under their arms and made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron, hardly noticing where they were going and bumping into several people.

They tramped up the stairs to their room, went inside, and tipped the books onto their bed. Somebody had been in to tidy; the windows were open and sun was pouring inside. James could hear the buses rolling by in the unseen Muggle street behind her and the sound of the invisible crowd below in Diagon Alley. She caught sight of herself in the mirror over the basin.

"It can't have been a death omen," she told her reflection defiantly. "I was panicking when I saw that thing in Magnolia Crescent… It was probably just a stray dog…"

She raised her hand automatically to pull her tight shirt up from giving people a view of her cleavage.

"You're fighting a losing battle there, dear," said her mirror in a wheezy voice and she sighed.

As the days slipped by, James started looking wherever they went for a sign of Ron or Hermione. Plenty of Hogwarts students were arriving in Diagon Alley now, with the start of term so near. They met Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, his fellow Gryffindors, in Quality Quidditch Supplies, where they too were ogling the Firebolt, although they seemed weary of James; they also ran into the real Neville Longbottom, a round-faced, forgetful boy, outside Flourish and Blotts. James didn't stop to chat; Neville appeared to have mislaid his booklist and was being told off by his very formidable-looking grandmother.

James hoped she never found out that Harry pretended to be Neville while on the knight bus.

James woke on the last day of the holidays, thinking that she would at least meet Ron and Hermione tomorrow, on the Hogwarts Express. She got up, dressed, went for a last look at the Firebolt, and was just wondering where they'd have lunch, when someone yelled their names and they turned.

"Harry! James!"

They were there, both of them, sitting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor — Ron looking incredibly freckly, Hermione very brown, both waving frantically at him.

"Finally!" said Ron, grinning at Harry and James as he sat down. "We went to the Leaky Cauldron, but they said you both left, and we went to Flourish and Blotts, and Madam Malkin's, and —"

"We got all our school stuff last week," James explained. "And how come you knew we were staying at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Dad," said Ron simply.

Mr. Weasley, who worked at the Ministry of Magic, would of course have heard the whole story of what had happened to Aunt Marge.

"Did you really blow up your aunt, Harry?" said Hermione in a very serious voice.

"I didn't mean to," said Harry, while Ron roared with laughter. "I just — lost control."

"It would have been funny, if the bitch hadn't of pissed the both of us off as bad as did." James said with an eyeroll.

"It's not funny, Ron, James," said Hermione sharply. "Honestly, I'm amazed Harry wasn't expelled."

"So am I," admitted Harry. "Forget expelled, I thought I was going to be arrested." He looked at Ron. "Your dad doesn't know why Fudge let me off, does he?"

"Probably 'cause it's you, isn't it?" shrugged Ron, still chuckling. "Famous Harry Potter and all that. I'd hate to see what the Ministry'd do to me if I blew up an aunt. Mind you, they'd have to dig me up first, because Mum would've killed me. Anyway, you can ask Dad yourself this evening. We're staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight too! So you can come to King's Cross with us tomorrow! Hermione's there as well!"

Hermione nodded, beaming. "Mum and Dad dropped me off this morning with all my Hogwarts things."

"Excellent!" said Harry happily. "So, have you got all your new books and stuff?"

"Look at this," said Ron, pulling a long thin box out of a bag and opening it. "Brand-new wand. Fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair. And we've got all our books —" He pointed at a large bag under his chair. "What about those Monster Books, eh? The assistant nearly cried when we said we wanted two."

"I don't see why I think their funny." James said with a smirk at Harry who glared at her, he had seen how she had tamed that beast, tickling honestly.

"What's all that, Hermione?" James asked, pointing at not one but three bulging bags in the chair next to her.

"Well, I'm taking more new subjects than you, aren't I," said Hermione. "Those are my books for Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, the Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies —"

"What are you doing Muggle Studies for?" said Ron, rolling his eyes at Harry and James. "You're Muggle-born! Your mum and dad are Muggles! You already know all about Muggles!"

"But it'll be fascinating to study them from the wizarding point of view," said Hermione earnestly.

"Are you planning to eat or sleep at all this year, Hermione?" asked James, while Ron and Harry sniggered. Hermione ignored them.

"I've still got ten Galleons," she said, checking her purse. "It's my birthday in September, and Mum and Dad gave me some money to get myself an early birthday present."

"How about a nice book? said Ron innocently.

"No, I don't think so," said Hermione composedly. "I really want an owl or a cat. I mean, Harry's got Hedwig, James has Aero, and you've got Errol —"

"I haven't," said Ron. "Errol's a family owl. All I've got is Scabbers." He pulled his pet rat out of his pocket. "And I want to get him checked over," he added, placing Scabbers on the table in front of them. "I don't think Egypt agreed with him."

Scabbers was looking thinner than usual, and there was a definite droop to his whiskers. He seemed to almost have a heart attack when he saw James.

"_He's found me! No, I don't want to die!"_ Scabbers squeaked out, Aero was glaring at the rat for some reason.

"_My master is a female of her species, you dumb rat-man." _Aero hissed at Scabbers and Ron grabbed him away from Aero.

"Aero wasn't going to eat him, your rat started freaking out about some guy finding him. Aero was just saying I was a girl." James said with an indignant air. She wondered why Aero said rat-man, though?

"There's a magical creature shop just over there," said Harry, who knew Diagon Alley very well by now. "You could see if they've got anything for Scabbers, and Hermione can get her owl. No one said Aero was going to eat Scabbers James just keep Aero away from him, he seems stressed for some reason."

"Fine." James said with an eye roll putting Aero on her shoulder.

So they paid for their ice cream and crossed the street to the Magical Menagerie. There wasn't much room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering, or hissing. The witch behind the counter was already advising a wizard on the care of double-ended newts, so Harry, Ron, James, and Hermione waited, examining the cages.

A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. It was a narcissist, much to James's delight.

"_I'm so pretty, and shiny. Yeah, I'm just that good looking."_ The tortoise groaned at his reflection in the window and James about keeled over from laughing, the other three joined her when she told them what he was groaning about.

Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank and singing some song about a snail named Larry, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise squeaking out presto I'm a hare, Presto I'm a hat. Then there were cats of every color, a noisy cage of ravens singing about death and freedom, a basket of funny custard-colored furballs that were humming loudly, and on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats that were playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails, they were squeaking out jump rope game tunes too.

The double-ended newt wizard left, and Ron approached the counter.

"It's my rat," he told the witch. "He's been a bit off-colour ever since I brought him back from Egypt."

"Bang him on the counter," said the witch, pulling a pair of heavy black spectacles out of her pocket.

Ron lifted Scabbers out of his inside pocket and placed him next to the cage of his fellow rats, who stopped their skipping tricks and scuffled to the wire for a better took. Like nearly everything Ron owned, Scabbers the rat was secondhand (he had once belonged to Ron's brother Percy) and a bit battered. Next to the glossy rats in the cage, he looked especially woebegone.

"Hm," said the witch, picking up Scabbers. "How old is this rat?"

"Dunno," said Ron. "Quite old. He used to belong to my brother."

"What powers does he have?" said the witch, examining Scabbers closely.

"Er —" The truth was that Scabbers had never shown the faintest trace of interesting powers. The witch's eyes moved from Scabbers's tattered left ear to his front paw, which had a toe missing, and tutted loudly.

"He's been through the mill, this one," she said.

"He was like that when Percy gave him to me," said Ron defensively.

"An ordinary common or garden rat like this can't be expected to live longer than three years or so," said the witch. "Now, if you were looking for something a bit more hard-wearing, you might like one of these —"

She indicated the black rats, who promptly started skipping again. Ron muttered, "Show-offs."

"Well, if you don't want a replacement, you can try this rat tonic," said the witch, reaching under the counter and bringing out a small red bottle.

"Okay," said Ron. "How much — OUCH!"

Ron buckled as something huge and orange came soaring from the top of the highest cage, landed on his head, and then propelled itself, spitting madly, at Scabbers.

"NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!" cried the witch, but Scabbers shot from between her hands like a bar of soap, landed splay-legged on the floor, and then scampered to James who grabbed the rat, quickly running from the death threating cat. Ron and Harry ran after James who was now petting and holding the rat trying to calm it down

"What was that?"

"It was either a very big cat or quite a small tiger," said Harry.

"Where's Hermione?" James asked lazily petting Scabbers who had calmed down quite a bit. Aero on the other had was glaring daggers at the rat.

"Probably getting her owl."

They made their way back up the crowded street to the Magical Menagerie. As they reached it, Hermione came out, but she wasn't carrying an owl. Her arms were clamped tightly around the enormous ginger cat.

"You bought that monster?" said Ron, his mouth hanging open.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" said Hermione, glowing.

That was a matter of opinion, thought James. The cat's ginger fur was thick and fluffy, but it was definitely a bit bowlegged and its face looked grumpy and oddly squashed, as though it had run headlong into a brick wall.

Now that Scabbers was out of sight, however, the cat was purring contentedly in Hermione's arms until he spotter Aero and he began to meow loudly. Aero just turned his nose up at the cat.

"_Why do you not kill the rat?"_ Crookshanks meowed.

"_James will be mad if I did, she does not know what he is."_ Aero mewed back.

"_Why do you not show her?"_ Crookshanks mewed back.

"_She can hear out conversation and understand it, my master is of the beast speaking kind."_ Aero mewed back a bit proudly.

"_Then tell her!"_ Crookshanks hissed.

"_She has enough on her plate already, you see the crazy looking human on that paper? That's her father, she doesn't need more stress."_ Aero hissed right back with finality. James was confused, what was Scabbers, if not a rat?

"Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me!" said Ron.

"He didn't mean to, did you, Crookshanks?" said Hermione.

"And what about Scabbers?" said Ron, pointing at the lump in his chest pocket. "He needs rest and relaxation! How's he going to get it with that thing around?"

"That reminds me, you forgot your rat tonic," said Hermione, slapping the small red bottle into Ron's hand. "And stop worrying, Crookshanks will be sleeping in my dormitory and Scabbers in yours, what's the problem? Poor Crookshanks, that witch said he'd been in there for ages; no one wanted him."

"Wonder why," said Ron sarcastically as they set off toward the Leaky Cauldron.

They found Mr. Weasley sitting in the bar, reading the Daily Prophet.

"Harry! James!" he said, smiling as he looked up. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," said Harry as he, Ron, and Hermione joined Mr. Weasley with their shopping.

"Stressed," James said a hand to her head, they could see she has been losing sleep.

Mr. Weasley put down his paper, and James saw the now familiar picture of her father staring up at her.

"They still haven't caught him, then?" Harry asked.

"No," said Mr. Weasley, looking extremely grave. He put a hand on James's shoulder and squeezed it. "They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far."

"Would we get a reward if we caught him?" asked Ron. "It'd be good to get some more money —"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," said Mr. Weasley, who on closer inspection looked very strained. "Black's not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard. It's the Azkaban guards who'll get him back, you mark my words. Or James, he may not want to hurt her, never seen a more prouder father when you were born James."

At that moment Mrs. Weasley entered the bar, laden with shopping bags and followed by the twins, Fred and George, who were about to start their fifth year at Hogwarts; the newly elected Head Boy, Percy; and the Weasleys' youngest child and only girl, Ginny.

Ginny, who had always been very taken with Harry, seemed even more heartily embarrassed than usual when she saw him, perhaps because he had saved her life during their previous year at Hogwarts. She went very red and muttered "hello" without looking at him and running to James for a hug.

Percy, however, held out his hand solemnly as though he and Harry had never met and said, "Harry. How nice to see you."

"Hello, Percy," said Harry, trying not to laugh although they both noticed he wouldn't look at James at all.

"I hope you're well?" said Percy pompously, shaking hands. It was rather like being introduced to the mayor.

"Very well, thanks —"

"Harry!" said Fred, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy —"

James seemed to brighten at the twins antics and Harry felt a bit relived.

"Marvelous," said George, pushing Fred aside, who pulled James into a hug, and seizing Harry's hand in turn. "Absolutely spiffing."

Percy scowled.

"That's enough, now," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Mum!" said Fred, as though he'd only just spotted her, dropped James, and seizing her hand, too. "How really corking to see you —"

"I said, that's enough," said Mrs. Weasley, depositing her shopping in an empty chair. "Hello, Harry, James, dears. I suppose you've heard our exciting news?" She pointed to the brand-new silver badge on Percy's chest. "Second Head Boy in the family!" she said, swelling with pride.

"And last," Fred muttered under his breath.

"I don't doubt that," said Mrs. Weasley, frowning suddenly. "I notice they haven't made you two prefects."

"What do we want to be prefects for?" said George, looking revolted at the very idea. "It'd take all the fun out of life."

Ginny giggled.

"You want to set a better example for your sister!" snapped Mrs. Weasley.

"Ginny's got other brothers to set her an example, Mother," said Percy loftily. "I'm going up to change for dinner…"

He disappeared and George heaved a sigh.

"We tried to shut him in a pyramid," he told James. "But Mum spotted us."

"So why he give me the cold shoulder?" James asked and the twins suddenly looked awkward.

"Look we don't…"

"Believe you anything like your dad…"

"But Percy and a lot of other people…"

"Have been talking…

"And it's not very good…" The twins trailed off at the shocked look on James's face.

"I see…" James said with tears coming to her eyes and Fred felt a surge of anger at Percy for ever considering James to be like that Maniac. They squished her into a twin sandwich.

"We don't believe it, and that's all that matters." George said with a conviction and a warm smile at her.

"Yeah, we got your back, James. Never forget that." Fred said and James tearful nodded but held the twins tighter.

Dinner that night was a very awkward affair. Tom the innkeeper put three tables together in the parlour, and the seven Weasleys, James, Harry, and Hermione ate their way through five delicious courses. The tension between the twins and James with Percy was stifeling.

"How're we getting to King's Cross tomorrow, Dad?" asked Fred as they dug into a sumptuous chocolate pudding, making sure some flew at Percy.

"The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," said Mr. Weasley.

Everyone looked up at him.

"Why?" said Percy curiously, his eyes went to James who glared right back at him.

"It's because of you, Perce," said George seriously. "And there'll be little flags on the hoods, with HB on them—"

"— for Humongous Bighead," said Fred and James in unison fist bumping.

Everyone except Percy and Mrs. Weasley snorted into their pudding.

"Why are the Ministry providing cars, _Father_?" Percy asked again, in a dignified voice putting an emphasis on Father and James flinched.

"Well, as we haven't got one anymore," said Mr. Weasley, "and as I work there, they're doing me a favor…"

His voice was casual, but James couldn't help noticing that Mr. Wesley's ears had gone red, just like Ron's did when he was under pressure.

"Good thing, too," said Mrs. Weasley briskly. "Do you realize how much luggage you've all got between you? A nice sight you'd be on the Muggle Underground… You are all packed, aren't you?"

"Ron hasn't put all his new things in his trunk yet," said Percy, in a long-suffering voice. "He's dumped them on my bed."

"You'd better go and pack properly, Ron, because we won't have much time in the morning," Mrs. Weasley called down the table. Ron scowled at Percy.

After dinner everyone felt very full and sleepy. One by one they made their way upstairs to their rooms to check their things for the next day. Ron and Percy were next door to Harry and James.

James had just closed and locked her own trunk when she heard angry voices through the wall, and went to see what was going on with Harry.

The door of number twelve was ajar and Percy was shouting.

"It was here, on the bedside table, I took it off for polishing —"

"I haven't touched it, all right?" Ron roared back.

"What's up?" said Harry.

"My Head Boy badge is gone," said Percy, rounding on Harry.

"...He polishes his badge?" was all James could think of to say, but she was ignored by Percy although he did turn a bit redder.

"So's Scabbers's Rat Tonic," said Ron, throwing things out of his trunk to look. "I think I might've left it in the bar —"

"You're not going anywhere till you've found my badge!" yelled Percy.

"I'll get Scabbers's stuff, I'm packed," Harry said to Ron, James nodded, and they went downstairs.

They were halfway along the passage to the bar, which was now very dark, when they heard another pair of angry voices coming from the parlour. A second later, she recognized them as Mr. and Mrs. Weasleys'. She hesitated, not wanting them to know she'd heard them arguing, when the sound of Harry's name made them stop, then move closer to the parlour door.

"… makes no sense not to tell him," Mr. Weasley was saying heatedly. "Harry's got a right to know. I've tried to tell Fudge, but he insists on treating Harry like a child. You saw what happened when he treated James as a child, she's took all her donations away from the Ministry. They are thirteen years old and —"

"Arthur, the truth would terrify them!" said Mrs. Weasley shrilly. "Do you really want to send Harry back to school with that hanging over him? For James to feel even more depressed about him? For heaven's sake, they're happy not knowing!"

"I don't want to make them miserable, I want to put them on their guard!" retorted Mr. Weasley. "You know what James, Harry, and Ron are like, wandering off by themselves — they've ended up in the Forbidden Forest twice! But Harry mustn't do that this year! When I think what could have happened to him and James that night they ran away from home! If the Knight Bus hadn't picked them up, I'm prepared to bet they would have been dead before the Ministry found them or James be in the hands of her insane father."

"But he's not dead, he's fine, so what's the point —"

"Molly, they say Sirius Black's mad, and maybe he is, but he was clever enough to escape from Azkaban, and that's supposed to be impossible. It's been three weeks, and no one's seen hide nor hair of him, and I don't care what Fudge keeps telling the Daily Prophet, we're no nearer catching Black than inventing self-spelling wands. The only thing we know for sure is what Black's after —"

"But Harry will be perfectly safe at Hogwarts."

"We thought Azkaban was perfectly safe. If Black can break out of Azkaban, he can break into Hogwarts."

"But no one's really sure that Black's after Harry —"

There was a thud on wood, and James was sure Mr. Weasley had banged his fist on the table.

"Molly, how many times do I have to tell you? They didn't report it in the press because Fudge wanted it kept quiet, but Fudge went out to Azkaban the night Black escaped. The guards told Fudge that Blacks been talking in his sleep for a while now. Always the same words: 'He's at Hogwarts… he's at Hogwarts…Too close…Too close, Black is deranged, Molly, and he wants Harry dead and his daughter by his side. If you ask me, he thinks murdering Harry will bring You-Know-Who back to power. Black lost everything the night Harry stopped You-Know-Who, and he's had twelve years alone in Azkaban to brood on that…"

There was a silence. James leaned still closer to the door, desperate to hear more, her stomach hurt but if she had to she would kill her own father before he could touch Harry. Harry was her baby cousin, her responsibility and she'd be damned if her psychotic father was going to touch him.

"Well, Arthur, you must do what you think is right. But you're forgetting Albus Dumbledore. I don't think anything could hurt Harry at Hogwarts while Dumbledore's Headmaster. I suppose he knows about all this?"

"Of course he knows. We had to ask him if he minds the Azkaban guards stationing themselves around the entrances to the school grounds. He wasn't happy about it, but he agreed."

"Not happy? Why shouldn't he be happy, if they're there to catch Black?"

"Dumbledore isn't fond of the Azkaban guards," said Mr. Weasley heavily. "Nor am I, if it comes to that… but when you're dealing with a wizard like Black, you sometimes have to join forces with those you'd rather avoid."

"But if they save Harry..."

"If they save Harry then I will never say another word against them," said Mr. Weasley wearily. "It's late, Molly, we'd better go up…"

James heard chairs move. As quietly as she could, she hurried down the passage to the bar and out of sight pulling Harry with her. The parlour door opened, and a few seconds later footsteps told her that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were climbing the stairs.

The bottle of rat tonic was lying under the table they had sat at earlier. Harry and James waited until they heard Mr. and Mrs. Wesley's bedroom door close, then headed back upstairs with the bottle.

Fred and George were crouching in the shadows on the landing, heaving with laughter as they listened to Percy dismantling his and Ron's room in search of his badge.

"We've got it," Fred whispered to them. "We've been improving it."

The badge now read Bighead Boy.

Harry and James forced a laugh, went to give Ron the rat tonic, then shut themselves in their room and Harry held James close to him. He needed to hold someone and someone to hold him, he had just found out his uncle, was out to kill him and to kidnap James.

This explained everything. Fudge had been lenient with Harry because he was so relieved to find him alive. He'd made Harry promise to stay in Diagon Alley where there were plenty of wizards to keep an eye on him. And he was sending two Ministry cars to take them all to the station tomorrow, so that the Weasleys could look after Harry until he was on the train.

Sirius Black had murdered thirteen people with one curse; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley obviously thought Harry would be panic-stricken if he knew the truth. But James happened to agree wholeheartedly with Mrs. Weasley that the safest place on earth was wherever Albus Dumbledore happened to be. Didn't people always say that Dumbledore was the only person Lord Voldemort had ever been afraid of? Surely Black, as Voldemort's right-hand man, would be just as frightened of him?

And then there were these Azkaban guards everyone kept talking about. They seemed to scare most people senseless, and if they were stationed all around the school, Black's chances of getting inside seemed very remote. James was terrified of these thoughts and tried to push them away and she slowly succeeded.

James scowled at the dark ceiling. Did they think Harry couldn't look after himself? He'd escaped Lord Voldemort three times; he wasn't completely useless…James herself wasn't useless either, she had been giving funding to those bastards and what do they do? They treat her like a child, well fuck them then, she had made sure that her vault was blocked off for only James to see and use.

Unbidden, the image of the beast in the shadows of Magnolia Crescent crossed her mind. What to do when you know the worst is coming…

"I'm not going to be murdered," Harry said out loud.

"Damn straight." James told him softly.

"That's the spirit, dear," said the mirror sleepily in agreement. Then the two cousins fell asleep.

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So, like it? Love it? Hate it? Well tell me in a review! =)

KrisxCross out!~


	5. Chapter 5

Hey you guys! Here is Chapter five, Yay! =) Please enjoy!

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James woke Harry the next morning with her usual cheeky grin and a cup of tea. Harry got dressed and was just persuading a disgruntled Hedwig to get back into her cage when Ron banged his way into the room, pulling a sweatshirt over his head and looking irritable. James had raised an eyebrow at Ron's half nakedness and he turned red in the face.

"I forgot you two shared a room, sorry James and the sooner we get on the train, the better," he said. "At least I can get away from Percy at Hogwarts. Now he's accusing me of dripping tea on his photo of Penelope Clearwater. You know," Ron grimaced, "his girlfriend. She's hidden her face under the frame because her nose has gone all blotchy…"

"I've got something to tell you," Harry began, but they were interrupted by Fred and George, who had looked in to congratulate Ron on infuriating Percy again.

They headed down to breakfast, where Mr. Weasley was reading the front page of the Daily Prophet with a furrowed brow and Mrs. Weasley beckoned James over and was telling the three girls about a love potion she'd made as a young girl.

" Oh this is the year girls, where you may find a boyfriend. You may even crush on someone. Ohhh, I know why don't you four tell me who your first crush was." Mrs. Weasley said and squealed and James was shocked that the woman could be like this.

"My first crush is Harry. It still is…" Ginny said with a bright red face.

"Mine was on Lockhart…" Hermione said bright pink on her face and the two turned with Mrs. Weasley to look at James who looked at them with a curious look.

"What?" She asked after they didn't say anything.

"Your first crush, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked kindly and James felt herself flush and didn't meet anyone's eyes.

"I haven't crushed on anyone. I'm not really interested in guys at the moment." James said without looking at them.

"Then this year, you mark my words! You will crush on someone, James." Mrs. Weasley said with a nod and James made a hasty retreat to the boys Mrs. Weasley's words echoing in her head.

"What were you saying?" Ron asked Harry as they sat down.

"Later," Harry muttered as Percy stormed in.

James had no chance to speak to the twins in the chaos of leaving; they were too busy heaving all their trunks down the Leaky Cauldron's narrow staircase and piling them up near the door, with Hedwig and Hermes, Percy's screech owl, perched on top in their cages. A small wickerwork basket stood beside the heap of trunks, spitting loudly. James had a nice felt carrier that Aero loved.

"_Yes, felt feels nice on my fur."_ Aero mewed.

"It's all right, Crookshanks," Hermione cooed through the wickerwork. "I'll let you out on the train."

"_You better, I feel humiliated! This Basket is poking me in so many uncomfortable places!"_ Crookshanks hissed so James a blanket of Aero's from her trunk and handed Hermione the feline as she layered the inside with the blanket and put Crookshanks back and he stayed relatively quite besides the few mews of, _"Are we there yet?"_

"You won't," snapped Ron. "What about poor Scabbers, eh?"

He pointed at his chest, where a large lump indicated that Scabbers was curled up in his pocket.

Mr. Weasley, who had been outside waiting for the Ministry cars, stuck his head inside.

"They're here," he said. "Harry, James, come on."

Mr. Weasley marched Harry and James across the short stretch of pavement toward the first of two old-fashioned dark green cars, each of which was driven by a furtive-looking wizard wearing a suit of emerald velvet.

"In you get, Harry, James," said Mr. Weasley, glancing up and down the crowded street. James got into the back of the car and was shortly joined by Hermione, Ron, and, Harry. The journey to King's Cross was very uneventful compared with Harry's and James's trip on the Knight Bus. The Ministry of Magic cars seemed almost ordinary. Though James noticed that they could slide through gaps that Uncle Vernon's new company car certainly couldn't have managed. They reached King's Cross with twenty minutes to spare; the Ministry drivers found them trolleys, unloaded their trunks, touched their hats in salute to Mr. Weasley, and drove away, somehow managing to jump to the head of an unmoving line at the traffic lights.

Mr. Weasley kept close to Harry's and James's elbows all the way into the station.

"Right then," he said, glancing around them. "Let's do this in pairs, as there are so many of us. James and Harry go first I'll go behind them."

Mr. Weasley strolled toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten, pushing Harry's and James's trolley and apparently very interested in the InterCity 125 that had just arrived at platform nine. With a meaningful look at Harry, he leaned casually against the barrier. Harry and James imitated him.

In a moment, they had fallen sideways through the solid metal onto platform nine and three-quarters and looked up to see the Hogwarts Express, a scarlet steam engine, puffing smoke over a platform packed with witches and wizards seeing their children onto the train.

Percy and Ginny suddenly appeared behind James. They were panting and had apparently taken the barrier at a run.

"Ah, there's Penelope!" said Percy, smoothing his hair and going pink again. Ginny caught Harry's and James's eyes, and the three turned away to hide their laughter as Percy strode over to a girl with long, curly hair, walking with his chest thrown out so that she couldn't miss his shiny badge.

Once the remaining Weasleys and Hermione had joined them, Harry and Mr. Weasley led the way to the end of the train, past packed compartments, to a carriage that looked quite empty. They loaded the trunks onto it, stowed Hedwig, Aero, and Crookshanks in the luggage rack, then went back outside to say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley kissed all her children, then Hermione, and finally Harry and James. They were embarrassed, but really quite pleased, when she gave them an extra hug.

"Do take care, won't you Harry, James?" she said as she straightened up, her eyes oddly bright. Then she opened her enormous handbag and said, "I've made you all sandwiches. Here you are, Ron… no, they're not corned beef… Fred? Where's Fred? Here you are dear…"

"Harry, James," said Mr. Weasley quietly, "come over here for a moment."

He jerked his head towards a pillar, and the two followed him behind it, leaving the others crowded around Mrs. Weasley.

"There's something I've got to tell you before you leave —" said Mr. Weasley in a tense voice.

"It's all right, Mr. Weasley," said Harry, "we already know."

"You know? How could you know?"

"We— er — We heard you and Mrs. Wesley talking last night. We couldn't help hearing," James added quickly. "Sorry —"

"That's not the way I'd have chosen for you to find out," said Mr. Weasley looking anxious.

"No — honestly it's okay. This way, you haven't broken your word to Fudge and I know what's going on."

"Harry, you must be scared — "

"I'm not," said Harry sincerely.

"Really," he added, because Mr. Weasley was looking disbelieving. "I'm not trying to be a hero, but seriously, Sirius Black can't be worse than Lord Voldemort, can he?"

Mr. Weasley flinched at the sound of the name, but overlooked it.

"Harry, I knew you were, well, made of stronger stuff than Fudge seems to think, and I'm obviously pleased that you're not scared, but —"

"Arthur!" called Mrs. Weasley, who was now shepherding the rest onto the train. "Arthur, what are you doing? It's about to go!"

"They're coming Molly!" said Mr. Weasley, but he turned back to Harry and kept talking in a lower and more hurried voice, "Listen, I want you to give me your word —"

" — that we'll be a good kids and stay in the castle?" said James sarcastilcaly.

"Not entirely," said Mr. Weasley, who looked more serious than Harry had ever seen him. "Harry, swear to me you won't go looking for Black."

"Why would he go looking for me?" James asked with a smirk and Harry couldn't help but chuckle.

There was a loud whistle. Guards were walking along the train, slamming all the doors shut.

"It's not a joke James, Promise me, you two," said Mr. Weasley, talking more quickly still, "that whatever happens —"

"Why would I go looking for someone I know wants to kill me?" said Harry blankly.

"Swear to me that whatever you might hear —"

"Arthur, quickly!" cried Mrs. Weasley.

Steam was billowing from the train it had started to move. Harry and James ran to the compartment door and Ron threw it open and stood back to let him on the twins had to help James up because it had picked up speed. They leaned out of the window and waved at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley until the train turned a corner and blocked them from view.

"I need to talk to you in private," Harry muttered to Ron and Hermione as the train picked up speed.

"Go away, Ginny," said Ron.

"Oh, that's nice," said Ginny huffily, and she stalked off.

James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off down the corridor, looking for an empty compartment, but all were full except for the one at the very end of the train.

This had only one occupant, a man sitting fast asleep next to the window. The four checked on the threshold. The Hogwarts Express was usually reserved for students and they had never seen an adult there before, except for the witch who pushed the food cart. The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard's robes that had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, his light brown hair was flecked with gray.

"Who d'you reckon he is?" Ron hissed as they sat down and slid the door shut, taking the seats farthest away from the window.

"Professor R. J. Lupin." James said sarcastically and Hermione said knowingly.

"How'd you know that?"

"It's on his case," they replied, pointing at the luggage rack over the man's head, where there was a small, battered case held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name Professor R. J. Lupin was stamped across one corner in peeling letters.

"Wonder what he teaches?" said Ron, frowning at Professor Lupin's pallid profile.

"That's obvious," whispered Hermione. "There's only one vacancy, isn't there? Defense Against the Dark Arts."

James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had already had two Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, both of whom had lasted only one year. There were rumors that the job was jinxed.

"Well, I hope he's up to it," said Ron doubtfully. "He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he?"

"Don't judge a book by it's cover Ron, and where the hell am I supposed to sit?" James groaned before going towards the seat by Hermione and gently lifting Professor Lupin's head and putting it on her lap as she sat down.

"Anyway… and only you James would do such a thing." he turned to Harry, "what were you going to tell us?"

Harry explained all about Mr. and Mrs. Wesley's argument and the warning Mr. Weasley had just given them. When he'd finished, Ron looked thunderstruck, and Hermione had her hands over her mouth. She finally lowered them to say, "Sirius Black escaped to come after you? Oh, Harry… you'll have to be really, really careful. don't go looking for trouble, Harry…"

"I don't go looking for trouble," said Harry, nettled. "Trouble usually finds me."

"Has a point" James sighed.

"How thick would Harry have to be, to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him? No offence James." said Ron shakily.

"None taken." James said gloomily.

They were taking the news worse than Harry had expected. Both Ron and Hermione seemed to be much more frightened of Black than he was.

"No one knows how he got out of Azkaban," said Ron uncomfortably. "No one's ever done it before. And he was a top-security prisoner too."

"But they'll catch him, won't they?" said Hermione earnestly. "I mean, they've got all the Muggles looking out for him too…"

"What's that noise?" said Ron suddenly.

A faint, tinny sort of whistle was coming from somewhere. They looked all around the compartment.

"It's coming from your trunk, Harry," said Ron, standing up and reaching into the luggage rack. A moment later he had pulled the Pocket Sneakoscope out from between Harry's robes. It was spinning very fast in the palm of Ron's hand and glowing brilliantly.

"Is that a Sneakoscope?" said Hermione interestedly, standing up for a better look.

"Yeah… mind you, it's a very cheap one," Ron said. "It went haywire just as I was tying it to Errol's leg to send it to Harry."

"Were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?" said Hermione shrewdly.

"No! Well… I wasn't supposed to be using Errol. You know he's not really up to long journeys… but how else was I supposed to get Harry's present to him?"

"Stick it back in the trunk," Harry advised as the Sneakoscope whistled piercingly, "or it'll wake him up."

He nodded toward Professor Lupin who had snuggled closer to James. Ron stuffed the Sneakoscope into a particularly horrible pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks, which deadened the sound, then closed the lid of the trunk on it.

"We could get it checked in Hogsmeade," said Ron, sitting back down.

"They sell that sort of thing in Dervish and Banges, magical instruments and stuff. Fred and George told me."

"Do you know much about Hogsmeade?" asked Hermione keenly. "I've read it's the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain —"

"Yeah, I think it is," said Ron in an offhand sort of way. "but that's not why I want to go. I just want to get inside Honeydukes!"

"What's that?" said Hermione.

"It's this sweetshop," said Ron, a dreamy look coming over his face, "where they've got everything… Pepper Imps — they make you smoke at the mouth — and great fat Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream, and really excellent sugar quills, which you can suck in class and just look like you're thinking what to write next–"

"But Hogsmeade's a very interesting place, isn't it?" Hermione pressed on eagerly. "In Sites of Historical Sorcery it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain —"

"– and massive sherbet balls that make you levitate a few inches off the ground while you're sucking them," said Ron, who was plainly not listening to a word Hermione was saying.

Hermione looked around at Harry and James.

"Won't it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?"

"'Spect it will," said Harry heavily. "You'll have to tell us when you've found out."

"What d'you mean?" said Ron.

"I can't go. The Dursleys didn't sign our permission forms, and Fudge wouldn't either."

Ron looked horrified.

"You're not allowed to come? But — no way — McGonagall or someone will give you permission —"

Harry gave a hollow laugh. Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house, was very strict.

"– or we can ask Fred and George, they know every secret passage out of the castle —"

"Ron!" said Hermione sharply. "I don't think Harry should be sneaking out of the school with Black on the loose —"

"Yeah, I expect that's what McGonagall will say when I ask of permission," said Harry bitterly.

"But if we're with him," said Ron spiritedly to Hermione. "Black wouldn't dare —"

"Oh, Ron, don't talk rubbish," snapped Hermione. "Black's already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street, do you really think he's going to worry about attacking Harry just because we're there?"

James flinched at the reminder and her mind spun.

She was fumbling with the straps of Crookshanks's basket as she spoke. James looked at Harry who unlocked Aero, who went and lay on Professor Lupin's stomach as James's lap was occupied by the man's head.

"Don't let that thing out!" Ron said, but too late; Crookshanks leapt lightly from the basket, stretched, yawned, and sprang onto Ron's knees; the lump in Ron's pocket trembled and he shoved Crookshanks angrily away.

"Get out of it!"

"Ron, don't!" said Hermione angrily.

Ron was about to answer back when Professor Lupin stirred. They watched him apprehensively, but he simply turned his head the other way, mouth slightly open, and slept on snuggling into James lap more.

The Hogwarts Express moved steadily north and the scenery outside the window became wilder and darker while the clouds overhead thickened overhead. People were chasing backwards and forwards past the door of their compartment. Crookshanks had now settled in an empty seat, his squashed face turned towards Ron, his yellow eyes on Ron's top pocket.

At one o'clock the plump witch with the food cart arrived at the compartment door.

"D'you think we should wake him up?" Ron asked awkwardly, nodding towards Professor Lupin. "He looks like he could do with some food."

Hermione approached Professor Lupin and James cautiously.

"Get me some, Harry." James pleaded scared to move and wake the professor.

"Er — Professor?" she said. "Excuse me — Professor?"

He didn't move.

"Don't worry, dear," said the witch, as she handed a large stack of cauldron cakes. "If he's hungry when he wakes, I'll be up front with the driver."

"I suppose he is asleep?" said Ron quietly, as the witch slid the compartment door closed. "I mean — he hasn't died, has he?"

"No, no, he's breathing and moving," whispered James, taking the cauldron cake Harry passed her.

He might not be very good company, but Professor Lupin's presence in their compartment had its uses. Mid-afternoon, just as it had started to rain, blurring the rolling hills outside the window, they heard footsteps outside in the corridor again, and their three least favorite people appeared at the door: Draco Malfoy, flanked by his cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

Draco Malfoy and Harry had been enemies ever since they had met on their very first journey to Hogwarts, James and Draco were cousins but that didn't mean they didn't hate each other. Malfoy, who had a pale, pointed, sneering face, was in Slytherin house; he played Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team, the same position that Harry played on the Gryffindor team.

Crabbe and Goyle seemed to exist to do Malfoy's bidding. They were both wide and muscley; Crabbe was taller, with a pudding-bowl haircut and a very thick neck; Goyle had short, bristly hair and long, gorilla arms.

"Well, look who it is," said Malfoy in his usual lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. "Potty and the Weasel with a convicts daughter."

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly.

"I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley," said Malfoy. "Did your mother die of shock?"

Ron stood up so quickly he knocked Crookshanks's basket to the floor. Professor Lupin gave a snort and James jumped a bit not expecting it.

"Who's that?" said Malfoy, taking an automatic step backward as he spotted Lupin who was using his cousin's lap like a pillow.

"New teacher," said Harry, who got to his feet, too, in case he needed to hold Ron back. "What were you saying, Malfoy?"

Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed; he wasn't fool enough to pick a fight right under a teacher's nose.

"C'mon, lets leave the idiots with a murderer's daughter," he muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared.

"Like he should talk, his father's a murder too. Imperio curse my ass." James snapped with a pissed off look on her face.

Harry and Ron sat down again, Ron massaging his knuckles.

"I'm not going to take any crap from Malfoy this year," he said angrily. "I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I'm going to get hold of his head and —"

Ron made a violent gesture in midair.

"You, do that Ron! I'd vouch for you, we were doing homework the entire time buddy." James said with a serious face.

"Ron, James," hissed Hermione, pointing at Professor Lupin, "be careful…"

But Professor Lupin was still fast asleep.

The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, Professor Lupin slept.

"We must be nearly there," said Ron, leaning forward to look past Professor Lupin at the now completely black window. The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down.

"Great," said Ron, getting up and walking carefully past Professor Lupin to try and see outside. "I'm starving. I want to get to the feast…"

"We can't be there yet," said Hermione, checking her watch.

"So why're we stopping?"

The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.

Harry, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments.

The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness. James immediately went rigid her hand found the Professor's shoulder and began to shake it, hoping he'd wake up.

"What's going on?" said Ron's voice from the left of James, who was shaking the Professor harder now.

"Ouch!" gasped Hermione. "Ron, that was my foot!"

Harry felt his way back to his seat.

"D'you think we've broken down?"

"Dunno…"

There was a squeaking sound, and Harry saw the dim black outline of Ron, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.

"There's something moving out there," Ron said. "I think people are coming aboard…"

The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over Harry's legs.

"Sorry! D'you know what's going on? Ouch! Sorry —"

"Hullo, Neville," said Harry, feeling around in the dark and pulling Neville up by his cloak.

"Harry? Is that you? What's happening?"

"No idea! Sit down —"

There was a loud hissing and a yelp of pain; Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks.

"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," came Hermione's voice. Harry felt her pass him, heard the door slide open again, and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain.

"Who's that?"

"Who's that?"

"Ginny?"

"Hermione?"

"What are you doing?"

"I was looking for Ron —"

"Come in and sit down —"

"Not here!" said Harry hurriedly. "I'm here!"

"Ouch!" said Neville.

"Quiet!" said a hoarse voice suddenly, James had succeeded in waking the teacher up and she felt a bit reassured.

James could hear movements in his corner.

None of them spoke.

There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames.

They illuminated his tired, gray face, but his eyes looked alert and wary.

"Stay where you are." he said in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him.

But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it.

Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin's hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. James's eyes darted downward, and what she saw made her stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water…

But it was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed James's gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak.

And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.

An intense cold swept over them all. James felt her own breath catch in her chest. The cold went deeper than her skin. It was inside her chest, it was inside her very heart…James's eyes rolled up into her head. She couldn't see. She was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in her ears as though of water. She was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder…

And then, from far away, she heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. A soft face in a twist of agony appeared with wide tearful navy eyes and golden hair.

She wanted to help her, she tried to move her arms, but couldn't… a thick white fog was swirling around her, inside her —

"Harry! James! Are you all right?"

Someone was slapping her face.

"W-what?"

James and Harry opened their eyes; there were lanterns above her, and the floor was shaking — the Hogwarts Express was moving again and the lights had come back on.

She seemed to have slid out of her seat onto the floor. Ron and Hermione were kneeling next to them, and above them she could see Neville and Professor Lupin watching. James felt very sick; when she put up her hand to push her hair out of her face, she felt cold sweat on her face.

Ron and Hermione heaved Harry back onto his seat. Professor Lupin heaved James to her's.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked nervously.

"Yeah," said Harry, looking quickly toward the door. The hooded creature had vanished. "What happened? Where's that — that thing? Who screamed?"

"No one screamed," said Ron, more nervously still.

James looked into her hands, she had seen her mother being tortured, her hands were shaking badgly. Harry looked around the bright compartment. Ginny and Neville looked back at him, both very pale.

"But I heard screaming —"

A loud snap made them all jump. Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.

"Here," he said to Harry and James, handing them two particularly large piece. "Eat it. It'll help."

James licked it before shaving some off with her teeth before nibbling on it. Her mind kept going back to her mother's face, if this continued she'd have a mental breakdown before the end of the year.

"What was that thing?" Harry asked Lupin.

"A Dementor," said Lupin, who was now giving chocolate to everyone else. "One of the Dementors of Azkaban."

Everyone stared at him. Professor Lupin crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket.

"Eat," he repeated. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me…"

He strolled past Harry and disappeared into the corridor.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry? James?" said Hermione, watching Harry anxiously and then switching to James who was unusually quiet.

"I don't get it… what happened?" said Harry, wiping more sweat off his face.

"I heard and seen my mum, being…tor… I can't say it." James said tears leaking from her eyes, she was still shaking hard.

"Oh, James…" Hermione held James to her as she shook and sobbed.

"I thought you both were having a fit or something," said Ron, who still looked scared. "You went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching —"

"And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked toward the Dementor, and pulled out his wand," said Hermione, "and he said, 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the Dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away…"

"It was horrible," said Neville, in a higher voice than usual. "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?"

"I felt weird," said Ron, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. "Like I'd never be cheerful again…"

Ginny, who was huddled in her corner looking nearly as bad as James felt, gave a small sob; Hermione went over and put a comforting arm around her, leaving James since she had calmed down but her hands still shook.

"But didn't any of you — fall off your seats?" said Harry awkwardly.

"No," said Ron, looking anxiously at Harry again. "Ginny was shaking like mad, though…"

Harry didn't understand. He felt weak and shivery, as though he were recovering from a bad bout of flu; he also felt the beginnings of shame. Why had he and James gone to pieces like that, when no one else had?

Professor Lupin had come back. He paused as he entered, looked around, and said, with a small smile, "I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know…"

Harry took a bite and to his great surprise felt warmth spread suddenly to the tips of his fingers and toes. James still felt ill so she just continued nibbling the chocolate.

"We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," said Professor Lupin. "Are you all right, Harry, Jay-ames?"

Harry didn't ask how Professor Lupin knew his name and James didn't ask what he was going to call her.

"Fine," he muttered, embarrassed.

"A bit shook up." James said with a small grin.

They didn't talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get outside; owls hooted, cats meowed, and Neville's pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.

"Firs' years this way!" called a familiar voice. James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned and saw the gigantic outline of Hagrid at the other end of the platform, beckoning the terrified-looking new students forward for their traditional journey across the lake.

"All right, you four?" Hagrid yelled over the heads of the crowd. They waved at him, but had no chance to speak to him because the mass of people around them was shunting them away along the platform. James,Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the rest of the school along the platform and out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled, Harry could only assume, by an invisible horse, because when they climbed inside and shut the door, the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.

The coach smelled faintly of mold and straw. James felt better since the icy rain had seemed to wake her up a bit, but still weak. Ron and Hermione kept looking at them sideways, as though frightened they might collapse again.

As the carriage trundled toward a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, James saw two more towering, hooded Dementors, standing guard on either side.

A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf her again; she leaned back into the lumpy seat and closed her eyes until they had passed the gates. The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle; Hermione was leaning out of the tiny window, watching the many turrets and towers draw nearer. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and Hermione and Ron got out.

As Harry stepped down, a drawling, delighted voice sounded in his ear.

"You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake!, Fuck off Draco!" James growled.

Malfoy elbowed past Hermione to block Harry's way up the stone steps to the castle, his face gleeful and his pale eyes glinting maliciously.

"Shove off, Malfoy," said Ron, whose jaw was clenched.

"Did you faint as well, Black?" said Malfoy loudly. "Did the scary old Dementor frighten you too, Black?"

James finally snapped, she could take a lot, but when you pile shit on one after a fucking another she was going to snap. Her fist shot out and decked Draco in the jaw sending him to the floor and as luck would have it…

"Is there a problem?" said a mild voice. Professor Lupin had just gotten out of the next carriage and seen the whole thing.

James grunted while Malfoy gave Professor Lupin an insolent stare, which took in the patches on his robes and the dilapidated suitcase. With a tiny hint of sarcasm in his voice, he said, "Oh, no — er —Professor," then he smirked at Crabbe and Goyle and led them up the steps into the castle well he tried to. James had tripped him so he landed in mud.

"What would your mother say, Drakey? Playing in mud, at your age." James sneered and Draco glared right back at her.

Hermione prodded James in the back to make her hurry, and the four of them joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, into the cavernous Entrance Hall, which was lit with flaming torches, and housed a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors.

The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right; Harry followed the crowd toward it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when a voice called, "Potter! Granger! Black! I want to see you both!"

James, Harry, and Hermione turned around, surprised. Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor House, was calling over the heads of the crowd. She was a stern looking witch who wore her hair in a tight bun; her sharp eyes were framed with square spectacles. James fought her way over to her with a feeling of foreboding: Professor McGonagall had a way of making her feel she must have done something wrong and it wasn't in a good way right now.

"There's no need to look so worried — I just want a word in my office," she told them. "Move along there, Weasley."

Ron stared as Professor McGonagall ushered Harry, James, and Hermione away from the chattering crowd; they accompanied her across the entrance hall, up the marble staircase, and along a corridor.

Once they were in her office, a small room with a large, welcoming fire, Professor McGonagall motioned James, Harry, and Hermione to sit down. She settled herself behind her desk and said abruptly, "Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Potter, Black."

Before they could reply, there was a soft knock on the door and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, came bustling in. James felt herself going red in the face. It was bad enough that she'd seen her mother being tortured without everyone making all this fuss.

"I'm fine," Harry said, "I don't need anything —"

"Oh, it's you two, is it?" said Madam Pomfrey, ignoring this and bending down to stare closely at them. "I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?"

"It was a Dementor, Poppy," said Professor McGonagall.

They exchanged a dark look, and Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly.

"Setting Dementors around a school," she muttered, pushing back Harry's hair and feeling his forehead. "They won't be the last one who collapses. Yes, their all clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate —"

"I'm not delicate!" said Harry crossly.

"Of course you're not," said Madam Pomfrey absentmindedly, now taking their pulse.

"What do they need?" said Professor McGonagall crisply. "Bed rest? Should they perhaps spend tonight in the hospital wing?"

"I'm fine!" said Harry and James, jumping up. James just wanted to eat and get hugs from the twins.

"Well, they should have some chocolate, at the very least," said Madam Pomfrey, who was now trying to peer into Harry's and James's eyes.

"We've already had some," said Harry. "Professor Lupin gave me some. He gave it to all of us."

"Did he, now?" said Madam Pomfrey approvingly. "So we've finally got a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies?"

"Are you sure you feel all right, Potter, Black?" Professor McGonagall said sharply.

"Yes," said Harry.

"Ha, I don't think I can yes, at this time. For other reasons besides the Dementor incident." James said with a frown and McGonagall nodded at her with a soft look.

"Very well. Kindly wait outside while I have a quick word with Miss Granger about her course schedule, then we can go down to the feast together."

Harry and James went back into the corridor with Madam Pomfrey, who left for the hospital wing, muttering to herself. She had to wait only a few minutes; then Hermione emerged looking very happy about something, followed by Professor McGonagall, and the four of them made their way back down the marble staircase to the Great Hall.

It was a sea of pointed black hats; each of the long House tables was lined with students, their faces glimmering by the light of thousands of candles, which were floating over the tables in midair. Professor Flitwick, who was a tiny little wizard with a shock of white hair, was carrying an ancient hat and a three-legged stool out of the hall.

"Oh," said Hermione softly, "we've missed the Sorting!"

New students at Hogwarts were sorted into Houses by trying on the Sorting Hat, which shouted out the House they were best suited to (Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin). Professor McGonagall strode off toward her empty seat at the staff table, and James, Harry and Hermione set off in the other direction, as quietly as possible, toward the Gryffindor table. People looked around at them as they passed along the back of the hall, and a few of them pointed at Harry. Had the story of them collapsing in front of the Dementor traveled that fast?

Harry and Hermione sat down on either side of Ron, who had saved them seats. James went over to the twins who had a spot in between them.

"What was all that about?" George muttered to James.

James started to explain in a whisper, but at that moment the headmaster stood up to speak, and she broke off.

Professor Dumbledore, though very old, always gave an impression of great energy. He had several feet of long silver hair and beard, half-moon spectacles, and an extremely crooked nose. He was often described as the greatest wizard of the age, but that wasn't why James respected him. You couldn't help trusting Albus Dumbledore, and as James watched him beaming around at the students, she felt really calm for the first time since the Dementor had entered the train compartment.

"Welcome!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…"

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

He paused, and James remembered what Mr. Weasley had said about Dumbledore not being happy with the Dementors guarding the school.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly, and Harry and James glanced at each other. "It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors," he said.

Percy, who was sitting a few seats down from James, puffed out his chest again and stared around impressively.

Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.

"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.

"First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"GO LUPIN!" James cheered and the twins joined her and she finally felt at home again.

There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause besides James and the twins.

Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin clapped hard, Harry among them. Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes.

"Look at Snape!" Fred hissed in James's ear.

Professor Snape, the Potions master, was staring along the staff table at Professor Lupin. It was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, but even James, who hated Snape, was startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. it was beyond anger: it was loathing. James knew that expression only too well; it was the look Snape wore every time he set eyes on James.

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at one another, stunned. Then they joined in with the applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular. James leaned forward to see Hagrid, who was ruby red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard.

"We should've known!" Ron roared, pounding the table. "Who else would have assigned us a biting book?"

James, Harry, Ron, the twins, and Hermione were the last to stop clapping and cheering in James case, and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, they saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"

The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. James, suddenly ravenous, helped herself to everything she could reach and began to eat. It was a delicious feast; the hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks. James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, were eager for it to finish so that they could talk to Hagrid. They knew how much being made a teacher would mean to him. Hagrid wasn't a fully qualified wizard; he had been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year for a crime he had not committed. It had been James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione who had cleared Hagrid's name last year.

At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for them all to go to bed, and they got their chance.

"Congratulations, Hagrid!" Roared James as they reached the teachers' table and hugged the half giant with wolfish grin on her face.

"All down ter you four," said Hagrid, wiping his shining face on his napkin as he looked up at them. "Can' believe it… great man, Dumbledore… came straight down to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said he'd had enough… It's what I always wanted…"

Overcome with emotion, he buried his face in his napkin, and Professor McGonagall shooed them away.

James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined the Gryffindors streaming up the marble staircase and, very tired now, along more corridors, up more and more stairs, to the hidden entrance to Gryffindor Tower, where a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress asked them, "Password?"

"Coming through, coming through!" Percy called from behind the crowd. "The new password's Fortuna Major!"

"Oh no," said Neville Longbottom sadly. He always had trouble remembering the passwords.

"I'll help you Neville." James said with a warm smile and smiled back.

Through the portrait hole and across the common room, the girls and boys divided toward their separate staircases. James climbed the spiral stair with no thought in her head except how glad she was to be back. They reached their familiar, circular dormitory with its five four-poster beds, and James, looking around, felt she was home at last.

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Hey people! =) So yeah, review?

KrisxCross out!~


	6. Chapter 6

Hey you guys this is chapter 6!~ WOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOO!~ I just had a very sugary breakfast so I am beyond hyper XD. WEEEEEEEEEEE TO THE STORY!~~~~

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When James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next day, the first thing they saw was Draco Malfoy, who seemed to be entertaining a large group of Slytherins with a very funny story. As they passed, Malfoy did a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit and there was a roar of laughter.

"Git" James growled, narrowing her eyes.

"Ignore him," said Hermione, who was to the left and behind James. "Just ignore him, it's not worth it…"

"Hey, Potter!" shrieked Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl with a face like a pug. "Potter! The Dementors are coming, Potter! Woooooooooo!"

"Oh fuck off, Pugsy!" James roared out and the great hall quieted.

"Oh touchy subject, Black? I guess I should keep quiet wouldn't want the murderer's daughter mad at me." Pansy said with a smirk a whispers came across the great hall.

"I haven't seen my father since I was one Parkinson, I lived with muggles dumbasses the only way I would be anything like him is if I lived with Draco. A murderer's son anyone?" James snapped right back.

"Don't bring my family into this Black!" Draco roared out pink in the face as people began to talk.

"OH! Don't you mean my family too? Your mom is Sirius Black's first cousin, my second cousin!" James yelled right back. Draco drew his wand out and shot out, "STUPEFY!"

James dodged and she had her wand out now, "DENSAUGEO!" Draco's teeth began to grow larger and he looked like a chipmunk roars' of laughter came from it and soon Draco cast a new spell.

"EXPTHPILLYARMUS!" Draco called out muffled by his overgrown teeth James was hit but she kept a good grip on her wand and she just went backwards into Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan. James quickly jumped to her feet her, her face in a scowl and as one the two yelled out, "Furnunculus!" James and Draco flew back by the force of the spell as the teachers quickly entered the Hall to see two groups across the hall from each other.

"WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME HAPPENED!" McGonagall cried out going towards were the Gryffindors were at to see James covered in boils and some blood was trailing from her mouth.

"Can you walk Black?" McGonagall asked her eyes were hard and James nodded getting help up from the twins and they all watched her wince and hold her side where her ribs are.

"50 points from Gryffindor Black for fighting, go to the Infirmary. You also have two days of detention." McGonagall said and James gave a jerky nod before making her way out of the great hall, not bothering to look back she used two short cuts and climbed two staircases before making it to the infirmary with a frown on her face that soon turned into a grimace when Malfoy came waddling in moaning about pain. Madam Promfrey went and healed him up with a frown.

"Don't exaggerate boy you just had a few bruises and those boils. Now come here dear, you go on and leave boy, go." Madam Promfrey said and James sat wincing on the bed and Madam Promfrey tisked.

"Four broken ribs, bruises and boils…hmmmm…" she cast a few spells on James that got rid of the bruises and the boils while she went and grabbed a bottle of Skele-Gro. James felt it go done and then stinging pain and then she felt okay again, she wiped away the blood on her face and then she got up and left.

"Accio, James Erica Black's Bag." Her black bag came flying from her right and she caught it before heading to Ancient Runes. She entered the class and sat down by Hermione with a small smile who gave a small one back. They listened to the class taking notes but James just didn't feel really okay. She couldn't wait for Hagrid's class maybe the fresh air and the lesson would make her feel better. After class she grabbed her things and headed off to Transfiguration while Hermione ran off somewhere towards muggle studies.

James chose a seat right at the back of the room, feeling very claustrophobic when Harry sat down next to her. She listened intently to what Professor McGonagall was telling them about Animagi (wizards who could transform at will into animals), and wasn't even watching when she transformed herself in front of their eyes into a tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes. James seemed the only one to be excited as she was, she had already gotten books on the subject, she wanted to become one badly.

"Really, what has got into you all today?" said Professor McGonagall, turning back into herself with a faint pop, and staring around at them all. "Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class."

Everybody's heads turned toward Harry again, but nobody spoke. Then Hermione raised her hand.

"Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and —"

"Ah, of course," said Professor McGonagall, suddenly frowning. "There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?"

Everyone stared at her.

"Me," said Harry, finally and James choked on a laugh. This was why she had chosen Ancient Runes.

"I see," said Professor McGonagall, fixing Harry with her beady eyes. "Then you should know, Potter, that Sybill Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues —" Professor McGonagall broke off, and they saw that her nostrils had gone white.

She went on, more calmly, "Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney…"

She stopped again, and then said, in a very matter-of-fact tone, "You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."

Hermione laughed. James smirked, Seriously people do you believe in everything someone tells you? Not everyone was convinced, however. Ron still looked worried, and Lavender whispered, "But what about Neville's cup?"

"Self-fufilling prophecy" James thought, after asking Hermione what had happened, how she knew since she had been with James in Ancient Runes was a mystery.

When the Transfiguration class had finished, they joined the crowd thundering toward the Great Hall for lunch.

"Ron, cheer up," said Hermione, pushing a dish of stew toward him. "You heard what Professor McGonagall said."

Ron spooned stew onto his plate and picked up his fork but didn't start.

"Harry," he said, in a low, serious voice, "You haven't seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?"

"Yeah, I have," said Harry. "I saw one the night I left the Dursleys'."

"So did I, it was probably a stray." James said with a roll of her eyes.

Ron let his fork fall with a clatter.

"Probably a stray," said Hermione agreeing with James.

Ron looked at Hermione as though she had gone mad.

"Hermione, if Harry and James have seen a Grim, that's — that's bad," he said. "My — my uncle Bilius saw one and — and he died twenty-four hours later!"

"Coincidence, We've seen it ages ago Ron," said Hermione and James airily, pouring themselves some pumpkin juice.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" said Ron, starting to get angry. "Grims scare the living daylights out of most wizards!"

"There you are, then," said Hermione in a superior tone. "They see the Grim and die of fright. The Grim's not an omen, it's the cause of death! And Harry and James are still with us because their not stupid enough to see one and think, right, well, I'd better kick the bucket then!"

Ron mouthed wordlessly at Hermione, who opened her bag, took out her new Arithmancy book, and propped it open against the juice jug.

"I think Divination seems very woolly," she said, searching for her page. "A lot of guesswork, if you ask me."

"Which is why I didn't take it." James said with a smirk as she ate a bit of soup

"There was nothing woolly about the Grim in that cup!" said Ron hotly.

"You didn't seem quite so confident when you were telling Harry it was a sheep," said Hermione coolly.

"Professor Trelawney said you didn't have the right aura! You just don't like being bad at something for a change!"

He had touched a nerve. Hermione slammed her Arithmancy book down on the table so hard that bits of meat and carrot flew everywhere.

"If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I'm not sure I'll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared with my Arithmancy class!"

She snatched up her bag and stalked away.

Ron frowned after her.

"What's she talking about?" he said to Harry. "She hasn't been to an Arithmancy class yet."

"She's been to Ancient Runes and Divination, how she did it, I have no clue. Plus Trelawney is an old bat, she's madder than Dumbledore." James said with dismissive wave of her hand.

James was pleased to get out of the castle after lunch. Yesterday's rain had cleared; the sky was a clear, pale gray, and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as they set off for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures class.

Ron and Hermione weren't speaking to each other. Harry walked beside them in silence and James skipped in front of the group as they went down the sloping lawns to Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was only when she spotted three only-too-familiar backs ahead of them that she realized they must be having these lessons with the Slytherins.

Malfoy was talking animatedly to Crabbe and Goyle, who were chortling. James was quite sure she knew what they were talking about.

Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat, with Fang the boarhound at his heels, looking impatient to start.

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

For one nasty moment, Jamws thought that Hagrid was going to lead them into the forest; James had had enough unpleasant experiences in there to last her a lifetime.

However, Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called. "That's it — make sure yeh can see — now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books —"

"How?" said the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.

"Eh?" said Hagrid.

"How do we open our books?" Malfoy repeated. He took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope. Other people took theirs out too; some, like Harry, had belted their book shut; others had crammed them inside tight bags or clamped them together with binder clips.

"Hasn' — hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.

James raised her open book up and Hagrid gave her a smile, while others looked at her in wonder.

"The book is charmed to be like a beast, and as the saying goes the gentlest touch can tame the beast. You just run a finger up the spine." James said as the other's went to do as she said.

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Malfoy sneered. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"

"I — I thought they were funny," Hagrid said uncertainly to James.

"Oh, tremendously funny!" said Malfoy. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Hagrid was looking downcast and Harry wanted Hagrid's first lesson to be a success.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his thread, "so — so yeh've got yer books an'… an'… now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on…"

He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.

"God, this place is going to the dogs," said Malfoy loudly. "That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him —"

"Oh just shut up, Malfoy! No one fucking cares, what you have to say! I'm getting fucking sick of you just shut up and stop being a smart ass to Hagrid. The books are fucking funny but you have stick so far up your ass…" James was cut off by Lavender.

"Oooooooh!" squealed Lavender Brown, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.

Trotting toward them were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures Harry had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly, orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking.

Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

"Gee up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

James could see what Hagrid meant. Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the Hippogriffs' gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different color: stormy gray, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, and inky black.

"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer…"

No one seemed to want to. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, approached the fence cautiously. James just skipped right on up.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is, they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle weren't listening; they were talking in an undertone and James had a nasty feeling they were plotting how best to disrupt the lesson.

"Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt."

"Right — who wants ter go first?"

Most of the class backed farther away in answer. Even Harry, Ron, and Hermione had misgivings. The Hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn't seem to like being tethered like this. James stepped forward, a smile of excitement on her face, she loved animals.

"_Hagrid, what is with these children looking at me? I am not something they can goggle at!"_ Buckbeak screeched at Hagrid who looked confused.

No one?" said Hagrid, with a pleading look.

"I'll do it," said Harry and James

There was an intake of breath from behind him, and both Lavender and Parvati whispered, "Oooh, no, Harry, remember your tea leaves!"

"Oh whatever." James said with a roll of her eyes.

She climbed over the paddock fence and Harry just gave her a nod.

"Good woman, James!" roared Hagrid. "Right then — let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."

He untied one of the chains, pulled the gray Hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath. Malfoy's eyes were narrowed maliciously.

"Easy now, James," said Hagrid quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink… Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much…"

James eyes stayed focused on Buckbeak's eyes, but she didn't shut them. Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head and was staring at James with one fierce orange eye. "Tha's it," said Hagrid. "Tha's it, James… now, bow."

James eyed the Hippogriff before bowing regally. She moved up to see that the Hippogriff was still staring haughtily at him. It didn't move.

"Ah," said Hagrid, sounding worried. "Right — back away, now, James, easy does it —"

But then, to everyone's enormous surprise, the Hippogriff suddenly bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.

"Well done, James!" said Hagrid, ecstatic. "Right — yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

Smiling widely James walked towards the hippogriff before she patted the beak several times and the Hippogriff closed its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it.

The class broke into applause, all except for Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were looking deeply disappointed.

"Righ' then, James," said Hagrid. "I reckon he migh' let yeh ride him!"

"Awesome!" James cheered and she could of sworn she heard Ron muttered something about a female Charlie.

"Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint," said Hagrid, "an' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that…"

James put her foot on the top of Buckbeak's wing and hoisted herself onto its back. Buckbeak stood up. James wrapped her arms around Buckbeak's neck, with a huge smile on her face.

"Go on, then!" roared Hagrid, slapping the Hippogriffs hindquarters.

Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of James, she laughed loudly as the rocky flight took place. Her heart was beating wildly and James couldn't help but laugh in enjoyment. The wings flapped and Buckbeak soared the wings sometimes clipping her legs as they went. It was noting like a broomstick but James loved every second of the flight.

Buckbeak flew her once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground; James laughed again before jumping off with a wide grin and running her fingers down the hippogriff's neck.

"_This human has nice hands."_ Buckbeak hummed as he rubbed against James's hand.

"Good work, James!" roared Hagrid as everyone except Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle cheered. "Okay, who else wants a go?"

Emboldened by James's success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock.

Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backward from his, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione practiced on the chestnut, while James watched.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had taken over Buckbeak. He had bowed to Malfoy, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful.

"This is very easy," Malfoy drawled, loud enough for James to, hear him. "I knew it must have been, if Black could do it… I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" he said to the Hippogriff. "Are you, you great ugly brute?"

It happened in a flash of steely talons; James slammed into Malfoy who let out a high pitched scream and next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained to get at Malfoy, who lay curled in the grass, James was on her hands in knees no one could see her face but there was blood dripping from her face.

"_How dare that human insult me! I'm am sorry, young one, I was going for the insulting one."_ Buckbeak screeched.

"I'm dying!" Malfoy yelled as the class panicked. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"

"Yer not dyin'!" said Hagrid, who had gone very white. "Someone help me — gotta get James outta here —"

"What about me, you brute?" Malfoy yelled.

"I pushed you outta the way dumbass, I'm the one hurt." James said and the others gasped three long gashes ran along her left cheek and were bleeding heavily. Hermione ran to hold open the gate as Hagrid lifted James easily. As they passed, they all saw that James had passed out in his hold; blood splattered the grass and Hagrid ran with her, up the slope toward the castle.

Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a walk. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid.

"They should sack him straight away!" said Pansy Parkinson, who was in tears holding on to Draco as if he would disappear.

"It was Malfoy's fault!" snapped Dean Thomas. Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles threateningly.

"I'm not scared of you, it was Malfoy's fault! Now James could be dying in the infirmary because of him!" Blaise yelled out.

"Yeah!" The Gryffindors yelled back at the Slytherins besides Blaise.

They all climbed the stone steps into the deserted entrance hall.

"I'm going to see if she's okay!" said Hermione, and they all watched her run up the marble staircase. The Slytherins, still muttering about Hagrid, headed away in the direction of their dungeon common room; Harry and Ron proceeded upstairs to Gryffindor Tower.

"You think she'll be all right?" asked Harry nervously.

"Course she will. Madam Pomfrey can mend cuts in about a second," said Ron.

"That was a really bad thing to happen in Hagrid's first class, though, wasn't it?" said Harry, looking worried. "Trust Malfoy to mess things up for him…"

They were among the first to reach the Great Hall at dinnertime, hoping to see Hagrid, but he wasn't there.

"They wouldn't fire him, would they?" asked Ron anxiously, not touching his steak-and-kidney pudding.

"They'd better not, James would have a right fit if they did." said Harry, who wasn't eating either.

Harry was watching the Slytherin table. A large group including Crabbe and Goyle was huddled together, deep in conversation. Harry was sure they were cooking up their own version of how Malfoy had been injured.

"Well, you can't say it wasn't an interesting first day back," said Ron gloomily.

They went up to the crowded Gryffindor common room after dinner and tried to do the homework Professor McGonagall had given them, but both of them kept breaking off and glancing out of the tower window and the twins were worried sick. They were stark white and kept saying something about killing a Malfoy.

"There's a light on in Hagrid's window," Harry said suddenly.

Ron looked at his watch.

"If we hurried, we could go down and see him. It's still quite early…"

So they put their things away and headed out of the portrait hole, glad to meet nobody on their way to the front doors, as they weren't entirely sure they were supposed to be out.

The grass was still wet and looked almost black in the twilight. When they reached Hagrid's hut, they knocked, and a voice growled, "C'min."

Hagrid was sitting in his shirtsleeves at his scrubbed wooden table; his boarhound, Fang, had his head in Hagrid's lap. One look told them that Hagrid had been drinking a lot; there was a pewter tankard almost as big as a bucket in front of him, and he seemed to be having difficulty getting them into focus.

"'Spect it's a record," he said thickly, when he recognized them. "Don' reckon they've ever had a teacher who lasted on'y a day before."

"You haven't been fired, Hagrid!" gasped Ron.

"Not yet," said Hagrid miserably, taking a huge gulp of whatever was in the tankard. "But's only a matter o' time, I'n't, after James…"

"How is she?" said Ron as they all sat down. "It wasn't serious, was it?"

"Madam Pomfrey fixed her best she could," said Hagrid dully, "but she's sayin' it may scar."

"Poor James," Harry sighed.

"School gov'nors have bin told, o' course," said Hagrid miserably. "They reckon I started too big. Shoulda left Hippogriffs fer later… done flobberworms or summat… Jus' thought it'd make a good firs' lesson's all my fault…"

"It's all Malfoy's fault, Hagrid!" said Ron angrily.

"We're witnesses," said Harry. "You said Hippogriffs attack if you insult them. It's Malfoy's problem that he wasn't listening. We'll tell Dumbledore what really happened. James will have a right fit if they try to fire you! You know her, she'll have them back off you."

"Yeah, don't worry, Hagrid, we'll back you up, and so will James," said Ron.

Tears leaked out of the crinkled corners of Hagrid's beetle-black eyes. He grabbed both Harry and Ron and pulled them into a bone-breaking hug.

"I think you've had enough to drink, Hagrid," said Ron firmly. She took the tankard from the table and went outside to empty it.

"Ah, maybe he's right," said Hagrid, letting go of Harry, who staggered away, rubbing his ribs. Hagrid heaved himself out of his chair and followed Ron unsteadily outside. He heard a loud splash.

"What's he done?" said Harry nervously as Ron came back in with the empty tankard.

"Stuck his head in the water barrel," said Ron, putting the tankard away.

Hagrid came back, his long hair and beard sopping wet, wiping the water out of his eyes.

"That's better," he said, shaking his head like a dog and drenching them all. "Listen, it was good of yeh ter come an' see me, I really —"

Hagrid stopped dead, staring at Harry as though he'd only just realized he was there.

"WHAT D'YEH THINK YOU'RE DOIN', EH?" he roared, so suddenly that they jumped a foot in the air.

"YEH'RE NOT TO GO WANDERIN' AROUND AFTER DARK, HARRY! AN, YOU! LETTIN' HIM!"

Hagrid strode over to Harry, grabbed his arm, and pulled him to the door.

"C'mon!" Hagrid said angrily. "I'm takin' yer all back up ter school an' don' let me catch yeh walkin' down ter see me after dark again. I'm not worth that!"

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So you guys like or not? Please review?

KrisxCross out!~


	7. Chapter 7

Hello ladies and gentlemen I have the seventh chapter, ZOMG!~~~ Lol ok whatever, just read you know you want to!~

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James didn't reappear in classes until late on Thursday morning, when the Slytherins and Gryffindors were halfway through double Potions. She cautiously walked into the dungeon, her left cheek covered in bandages.

"How is it, James?" Blaise asked with concern in his voice. "Does it hurt much?"

"No, Madam Promfrey took care of most of it," said James with a grimace as though she wished Madam Promfrey had done something more

"Settle down, settle down, Black ten points from Gryff-" said Professor Snape was cut off by James who slammed down a pass from the infirmary.

"My pass, Professor." She hissed walking away and setting up her cauldron next to Neville's who looked grateful.

They were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution, this was James's best class and not even Snape could say anything against that.

"So how is it really?" Neville whispered with a frown on his face.

"Three claw like scars on my face, Promfrey got it so the skin is on the same level but the skin is pink in color." James said touching her face lightly, she had sent a letter to Charlie Weasley, Fred had told her that he had a few burns and scars here and there if she wanted to talk about it to anyone Charlie would be best. Fred and George had been with her in the infirmary the whole time even when she saw the scars. James had freaked and started bawling, James may not have been girly but she did always praise herself on her looks. Fred and George had immediately told her it wasn't as bad as it could have been and that it made her look sexy. That had James in sobbing laughing fit the twins didn't know what to do with and then Fred remembered Charlie. So she wrote him a letter.

Charlie Weasley,

Ummm…Hello? There was an accident in Care of Magical Creatures class and I walked away with three claw like scars on my face. I'm a friend of the twins, Fred and George, also with Ron and Ginny. I freaked out from the scars and Fred told me to contact you. So, I did…This is awkward hahaha…yeah so can you tell me how you deal with it? I am a girl, by the way don't let my name fool you.

Sincerely,

James Black

It was awkward and to the point but James wasn't one to really care, all she cared about was a reply. James was taken from her thoughts as Snape started to be a git. Her potion was in the beginning stages and was the right pastel blue.

A cauldron away, Neville was in trouble. Neville regularly went to pieces in Potions lessons; it was his worst subject, and his great fear of Professor Snape made things ten times worse.

His potion, which was supposed to be a bright, acid green, had turned —

"Orange, Longbottom," said Snape, ladling some up and allowing to splash back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see.

"Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one cat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

Neville was pink and trembling. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears.

"Please, sir," said Hermione, "please, I could help Neville put it right —"

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger," said Snape coldly, and Hermione went as pink as Neville. "Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."

"I don't remember it being in the rules to kill people's pets, Professor." James hissed.

"Have you read the rules Black?" Snape hissed back.

"Yes, you probably haven't taking books away from people, Professor. What was that about?" James hissed back and Snape seemed a bit shocked.

"This is none of your concern Black." Snape snarled.

"Then you won't mind me helping Neville sense you took points off in first year because Harry didn't help Neville then." James finished with a smirk and Snape's hand twitched towards his wand but James didn't back down.

Snape stalked away, leaving Neville breathless with fear and James smirking victoriously.

"Help me!" he moaned to James.

"Hey, Harry," said Seamus Finnigan, leaning over to borrow Harry's brass scales, "have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning — they reckon Sirius Black's been sighted."

James sighed thinking, "why do people care so much?"

"Where?" said Harry and Ron quickly. On the other side of the table, Malfoy looked up, listening closely. James had gotten her potion to get to an acid green and had Neville's to a pastel green that she was still fixing.

"Not too far from here," said Seamus, who looked excited. "It was a Muggle who saw him. 'Course, she didn't really understand. The Muggles think he's just an ordinary criminal, don't they? So she phoned the telephone hot line. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone."

"Not too far from here…" Ron repeated, looking significantly at Harry and James, who had finally fixed Neville's potion and was smirking at Snape who looked furious.

Snape called, "You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's…"

Crabbe and Goyle laughed openly, watching Neville sweat as he stirred his potion feverishly. James was openly helping him since Snape couldn't do shit about it unless he wanted someone to go to Dumbledore or McGonagall with proof of his bias.

Harry, Ron, James, and Hermione packed away their unused ingredients and went to wash their hands and ladles in the stone basin in the corner.

The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron.

"Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned."

The Gryffindors watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat.

There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm.

The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.

"Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped the smiles from every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Black. Class dismissed."

"You told Hermione, not me Professor. So get your facts straight." James snarled.

James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione climbed the steps to the entrance hall.

"Five points from Gryffindor because the potion was all right! Why didn't you lie, James? You should've said Neville did it all by himself! Right Hermion?"

Hermione didn't answer. Ron looked around.

"Where is she?"

The cousins turned too. They were at the top of the steps now, watching the rest of the class pass them, heading for the Great Hall and lunch.

"She was right behind us," said Ron, frowning.

"The disappearing Hermione" James chuckled lightly.

Malfoy passed them, walking between Crabbe and Goyle. He smirked at Harry and disappeared.

"There she is," said Harry.

Hermione was panting slightly, hurrying up the stairs; one hand clutched her bag, the other seemed to be tucking something down the front of her robes.

"How did you do that?" said Ron.

"What?" said Hermione, joining them.

"One minute you were right behind us, the next moment, you were back at the bottom of the stairs again."

"What?" Hermione looked slightly confused. "Oh — I had to go back for something. Oh no —"

A seam had split on Hermione's bag. Harry wasn't surprised; he could see that it was crammed with at least a dozen large and heavy books.

"Why are you carrying all these around with you?" Ron asked her.

"You know how many subjects I'm taking," said Hermione breathlessly. "Couldn't hold these for me, could you?"

"But —" Ron was turning over the books she had handed him, looking at the covers. "You haven't got any of these subjects today. It's only Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon."

"Oh yes," said Hermione vaguely, but she packed all the books back into her bag just the same after James cast a charm to fix it.

"I hope there's something good for lunch, I'm starving," she added, and she marched off toward the Great Hall.

"D'you get the feeling Hermione's not telling us something?" Ron asked Harry. James just smirked she had read a book about a new invention that looked like an hourglass, a time turner.

Professor Lupin wasn't there when they arrived at his first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. They all sat down, took out their books, quills, and parchment, and were talking when he finally entered the room. Lupin smiled vaguely and placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher's desk. He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square meals.

"Good afternoon," he said. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."

"Translation," James muttered. "This lesson is gonna be bloody brilliant."

A few curious looks were exchanged as the class put away their books. They had never had a practical Defense Against the Dark Arts class before, unless you counted the memorable class last year when their old teacher had brought a cageful of pixies to class and set them loose.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin, when everyone was ready. "If you'd follow me."

Puzzled but interested, the class got to its feet and followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom. He led them along the deserted corridor and around a corner, where the first thing they saw was Peeves the Poltergeist, who was floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum.

Peeves didn't look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away; then he wiggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song.

"Loony, loopy Lupin with the puppy Black," Peeves sang. "Loony, loopy Lupin with the puppy Black, loony, loopy Lupin with the puppy Black —"

Rude and unmanageable as he almost always was, Peeves usually showed some respect toward the teachers, James had laughed and said Peeves only sang about the children he liked. Everyone looked quickly at Professor Lupin to see how he would take this; to their surprise, he was still smiling.

"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves," he said pleasantly. "Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to his brooms."

"I'd leave it there, git, deserves a 'break'," James countered with a wolfish smirk and she missed the look of pain that crossed Lupin's face as Peeves patted her head.

"Puppy Black, has a point Loony, Loopy Lupin." Peeves said in a sing song voice.

Filch was the Hogwarts caretaker, a bad-tempered, failed wizard who waged a constant war against the students and, indeed, Peeves.

Professor Lupin gave a small sigh and took out his wand.

"This is a useful little spell," he told the class over his shoulder. "Please watch closely."

He raised the wand to shoulder height, said, "Waddiwasi!" and pointed it at Peeves.

With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves's left nostril; he whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing.

"Cool, sir!" said Dean Thomas in amazement.

"Thank you, Dean," said Professor Lupin, putting his wand away again. "Shall we proceed?"

They set off again, the class looking at shabby Professor Lupin with increased respect. He led them down a second corridor and stopped, right outside the staffroom door.

"Inside, please," said Professor Lupin, opening it and standing back.

The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in. His eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around his mouth.

"Oh great didn't we just leave this git's class?" James groaned and Hermione smacked her upside the head.

As Professor Lupin came in and made to close the door behind him, Snape said, "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this." He got to his feet and strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him. At the doorway he turned on his heel and said, "Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Black is hissing instructions in his ear."

Neville went scarlet. James glared at Snape; it was bad enough that he bullied Neville in his own classes, let alone doing it in front of other teachers.

"Can't have one conversation without showing your true colors can you Snape?" James asked lightly with a smirk and Snape glared at her.

Professor Lupin had raised his eyebrows.

"I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation," he said, "and I am sure he will perform it admirably."

Neville's face went, if possible, even redder. Snape's lip curled, but he left, shutting the door with a snap.

"Now, then," said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

"Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. "There's a Boggart in there."

Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about. Neville gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror and grabbed James arm as if she would protect him, and Seamus Finnigan eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks — I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice.

"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?"

Hermione put up her hand.

"It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione glowed. "So the Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a Boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears.

"This means," said Professor Lupin, choosing to ignore Neville's small sputter of terror, "that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

Trying to answer a question with Hermione next to him, bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet with her hand in the air, was very off-putting, but Harry had a go.

"Er — because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

"Precisely," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione put her hand down, looking a little disappointed.

"It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a Boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a Boggart make that very mistake — tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening. 'The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a Boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing.

"We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please… riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!" said the class together.

"Good," said Professor Lupin. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville."

The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Neville, who walked forward as though he were heading for the gallows trying to drag James with him but she just grabbed Dean who held her in place and Neville looked like he was going towards his death.

"Right, Neville," said Professor Lupin. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

Neville's lips moved, but no noise came out.

"I didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," said Professor Lupin cheerfully.

Neville looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help him, then said, in barely more than a whisper, "Professor Snape."

Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically. Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful.

"Professor Snape… hmmm… Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Er — yes," said Neville nervously. "But — I don't want the Boggart to turn into her either."

"No, no, you misunderstand me," said Professor Lupin, now smiling. "I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"

Neville looked startled, but said, "Well… always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress… green, normally… and sometimes a fox-fur scarf."

"And a handbag?" prompted Professor Lupin.

"A big red one," said Neville.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin. "Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

"Yes," said Neville uncertainty, plainly wondering what was coming next.

"When the Boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," said Lupin. "And you will raise your wand — thus — and cry 'Riddikulus' — and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, and that green dress, with that big red handbag."

There was a great shout of laughter. The wardrobe wobbled more violently.

"If Neville is successful, the Boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," said Professor Lupin. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical…"

The room went quiet. James thought… What scared her most in the world?

Her first thought was Lord Voldemort — a Voldemort returned to full strength. But before she had even started to plan a possible counterattack on a Boggart-Voldemort, a horrible image came floating to the surface of her mind…

A misty place with bodies everywhere, none of them moving…Fred, George, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny, and many more.

James shivered, then looked around, hoping no one had noticed. Many people had their eyes shut tight. Ron was muttering to himself, "Take its legs off." James was sure she knew what that was about. Ron's greatest fear was spiders.

"Everyone ready?" said Professor Lupin.

James felt a lurch of fear. She wasn't ready. How could you make your friends dead bodies less frightening?

But she didn't want to ask for more time; everyone else was nodding and rolling up their sleeves.

"Neville, we're going to back away," said Professor Lupin. "Let you have a clear field, all right? I'll call the next person forward… Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot —"

They all retreated, backed against the walls, leaving Neville alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he had pushed up the sleeves of his robes and was holding his wand ready.

"Go Neville!" James said enthusiastically and they could of sworn Neville blushed and smiled.

"On the count of three, Neville," said Professor Lupin, who was pointing his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. "One — two — three —now!"

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin's wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Hook-nosed and menacing, Professor Snape stepped out, his eyes flashing at Neville.

Neville backed away, his wand up, mouthing wordlessly. Snape was bearing down upon him, reaching inside his robes.

"R — r — riddikulus! " squeaked Neville.

There was a noise like a whip crack. Snape stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and he was swinging a huge crimson handbag.

There was a roar of laughter; the Boggart paused, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted, "James! Forward!"

James walked forward, her face in a grimace. Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was her friends lying on the ground, staring lifelessly at James and it began to get worse as they began to get faces.

"Riddikulus!" cried James.

Her friends were suddenly up and they were laughing and doing the hula in grass skirts.

"Seamus!" roared Professor Lupin.

Seamus darted past James who was still a bit shaken.

Crack! Where the hula dancing people had been was a woman with floorlength black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face — a banshee. She opened her mouth wide and an unearthly sound filled the room, a long, wailing shriek that made the hair on Harry's head stand on end — "Riddikulus!" shouted Seamus.

The banshee made a rasping noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone.

Crack! The banshee turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle, then —crack!- became a rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed before —crack! — becoming a single, bloody eyeball.

"It's confused!" shouted Lupin. "We're getting there! Dean!"

Dean hurried forward.

Crack! The eyeball became a severed hand, which flipped over and began to creep along the floor like a crab.

"Riddikulus!" yelled Dean.

There was a snap, and the hand was trapped in a mousetrap.

"Excellent! Ron, you next!"

Ron leapt forward.

Crack!

Quite a few people screamed. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Ron, clicking its pincers menacingly. For a moment, Harry thought Ron had frozen. Then —

"Riddikulus!" bellowed Ron, and the spider's legs vanished; it rolled over and over; Lavender Brown squealed and ran out of its way and it came to a halt at Harry's feet. He raised his wand, ready, but —

"Here!" shouted Professor Lupin suddenly, hurrying forward. Crack!

The legless spider had vanished. For a second, everyone looked wildly around to see where it was. Then they saw a silvery-white orb hanging in the air in front of Lupin, who said, "Riddikulus!" almost lazily.

Crack!

"Forward, Neville, and finish him off!" said Lupin as the Boggart landed on the floor as a cockroach. Crack! Snape was back. This time Neville charged forward looking determined.

"Riddikulus!" he shouted, and they had a split second's view of Snape in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great "Ha!" of laughter, and the Boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

"Excellent!" cried Professor Lupin as the class broke into applause. "Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone… Let me see… five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the Boggart — ten for Neville because he did it twice… and five each to Hermione and Harry."

"But I didn't do anything," said Harry.

"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry,"

Lupin said lightly. "Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on Boggarts and summarize it for me… to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."

Talking excitedly, the class left the staffroom. James, however, wasn't feeling cheerful. She was sick to her stomach, she never wanted to see her friends like that again. Never, ever again. Finally she just ran off to the two people who could cheer her up, she was almost there when Hedwig had flew through the window with a letter tied on her foot. Petting Hedwig, James untied the letter and Hedwig flew off with an affectionate nip to her nose. Opening the letter James, couldn't help but smile blushing slightly.

James,

Sirius Black's daughter, right? The one who Fred and George write to me about you being like them and me? A prankster with a love of animals, they say you're a Quidditch player too? Someone's an over achiever. So this accident that messed up your pretty face, what happened? The twins tell me it's not so bad, just pink in color, it should fade away in no time. Also, you know that Dragon of Hagrid's right? Turns out Norbert is a Norberta. Shocking isn't it? Where your scars with pride, you're a pretty girl, from what I hear, let your imperfection become an endearment.

Sincerely,

Charlie Weasley.

James smiled and quickly ran off the twins forgotten, her mind on a letter for Charlie.

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So what do guys think? Good, Bad, Terrible, Brilliant? I like it but why don't you tell me in a review. =)

KrisxCross out!~


	8. Chapter 8

Hey guys! My mom tried to kill me a few minutes ago, she took me bike riding in 98 degrees, omg I about died. Lol. So here is the eight chapter! =) Also I am adding an oc from one of my reviewers to be with George. Her name is Naira Jane Reynolds and she is HunnyABee's. =) Naira will be with George by the way.

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In no time at all, Defense Against the Dark Arts had become most people's favorite class. James has been sending letters back and forth to Charlie who seemed to really like his little third year pen pal. They could go on for five pieces of parchment about magical creatures, mostly dragons. Also James's cat Aero had gotten a Ravenclaw named Naira's cat Minnie pregnant and now Naira was wondering if she could keep Aero so the kittens could have a father. James had been against it at first but Aero had wanted to be there so she let him go. She was now talking with the board of education on adding dogs to the list so she could get one. She was really close too, she had 3/4th's of the board on her side and they were going to be voting soon.

Still Draco Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins had anything bad to say about Professor Lupin, although they usually ended up pranked with the words "I only talk shit about others because inside I really want to be them" or James's favorite "Does this make me look like a drag queen, because that was so the look I was going for." These were usually on the back of their cloaks.

"Look at the state of his robes," Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed. "He dresses like our old house elf."

Malfoy would be promptly punched so hard in the face by James he would be in the infirmary for a few hours. Professor Lupin had enough on his plate than to have than that jackass bad mouthing him, was all James would say.

But no one else cared that Professor Lupin's robes were patched and frayed. His next few lessons were just as interesting as the first. After Boggarts, they studied Red Caps, nasty little goblin-like creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed: in the dungeons of castles and the potholes of deserted battlefields, waiting to bludgeon those who had gotten lost. From Red Caps they moved on to Kappas, creepy. water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.

James only wished she was as happy with some of her other classes. Worst of all was Potions. Snape was in a particularly vindictive mood these days, and no one was in any doubt why. The story of the Boggart assuming Snape's shape, and the way that Neville had dressed it in his grandmother's clothes, had traveled through the school like wildfire. Snape didn't seem to find it funny. His eyes flashed menacingly at the very mention of Professor Lupin's name, and he was bullying Neville worse than ever. Well he would if James wouldn't piss him off so he would leave Neville alone, which worked will. Also James had noticed that she was being shunned. Where ever she went people would whisper and James would have been pissed or sad about this if Charlie, the twins, or the trio had done it.

James was also growing to dread the hours she spent in Professor Babbling; she would look at James in fear as if she was going to kill her.

Most really liked Care of Magical Creatures, which, after the action-packed first class, had become a little more dull. Hagrid seemed to have lost most of his confidence. They were now spending lesson after lesson learning how to look after flobberworms, Cornish pixies, and sometimes feeding the Hippogriffs. James now thanks to Charlie wore her scars with a pride and many said it made her seem more real, more easier to connect with.

"Why would anyone bother looking after them?" said Ron, after yet another hour of poking shredded lettuce down the flobberworms' throats.

At the start of October, however, James had something else to occupy her, something so enjoyable it more than made up for her unsatisfactory classes. The Quidditch season was approaching, and Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor team, called a meeting on Thursday evening to discuss tactics for the new season. There were seven people on a Quidditch team: three Chasers, whose job it was to score goals by putting the Quaffle (a red, soccer-sized ball) through one of the fifty-foot-high hoops at each end of the field; two Beaters, who were equipped with heavy bats to repel the Bludgers (two heavy black balls that zoomed around trying to attack the players); a Keeper, who defended the goal posts, and the Seeker, who had the hardest job of all, that of catching the Golden Snitch, a tiny, winged, walnut-sized ball, whose capture ended the game and earned the Seeker's team an extra one hundred and fifty points.

Oliver Wood was a burly seventeen-year-old, now in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts. There was a quiet sort of desperation in his voice as he addressed his six fellow team members in the chilly locker rooms on the edge of the darkening Quidditch field.

"This is our last chance —my last chance — to win the Quidditch Cup," he told them, striding up and down in front of them. "I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it. Gryffindor hasn't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world — injuries — then the tournament getting called off last year." Wood swallowed, as though the memory still brought a lump to his throat. "But we also know we've got the best — ruddy — team — in — the — school," he said, punching a fist into his other hand, the old manic glint back in his eye. "We've got three superb Chasers."

Wood pointed at Alicia Spinner, James Black, and Katie Bell. James winked with a smirk on her face.

"We've got two unbeatable Beaters."

"Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us," said Fred and George Weasley together, pretending to blush. James laughed and went back to smirking when the twins threw their arms around her shoulders.

"And we've got a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match!" Wood rumbled, glaring at Harry with a kind of furious pride

"And me," he added as an afterthought.

"We think you're very good too, Oliver," said George.

"Spanking good Keeper," said Fred.

"Could play for England, you could." James encouraged.

"The point is," Wood went on blushing now, resuming his pacing, "the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing…"

Wood spoke so dejectedly that even Fred and George looked sympathetic.

"Oliver, this year's our year," said Fred.

"We'll do it, Oliver!" said James.

"Definitely," said Harry.

Full of determination, the team started training sessions, three evenings a week. The weather was getting colder and wetter, the nights darker, but no amount of mud, wind, or rain could tarnish James's and Harry's wonderful vision of finally winning the huge, silver Quidditch Cup.

James and Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room one evening after training, cold and stiff but pleased with the way practice had gone, to find the room buzzing excitedly.

"What's happened?", Harry asked Ron and Hermione, who were sitting in two of the best chairs by the fireside and completing some star charts for Astronomy.

"First Hogsmeade weekend," said Ron, pointing at a notice that had appeared on the battered old bulletin board. "End of October. Halloween."

"Excellent," said Fred, who had followed James through the portrait hole. "I need to visit Zonko's. I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets."

"You'll get me some wont you?" James asked with a half smile and Fred and George shared a glance before nodding at her.

Harry threw himself into a chair beside Ron, his high spirits ebbing away. Hermione seemed to read his mind.

"Harry, I'm sure you'll be able to go next time," she said. "They're bound to catch Black soon. He's been sighted once already."

"No he wont, still got no one to sign it…unless you want him to sneak out?" James asked with a glint in her eyes and Hermione wouldn't make eye contact.

"Black's not fool enough to try anything in Hogsmeade," said Ron. "Ask McGonagall if you can go this time, Harry. The next one might not be for ages —"

"Ron!" said Hermione. "Harry's supposed to stay in school —"

James snorted.

"She won't sign it, anyways, this is McGonagall where talking about." Harry said with a frown smacking James upside the head.

"That hurt, don't hurt your elders boy! It's not right!" James reprimanded Harry and the two laughed at her impression of Uncle Vernon being spot on. Hermione opened her mouth to say more, but at that moment Crookshanks leapt lightly onto her lap. A large, dead spider was dangling from his mouth.

"Does he have to eat that in front of us?" said Ron, scowling.

"Clever Crookshanks, did you catch that all by yourself?" said Hermione.

Crookshanks; slowly chewed up the spider, his yellow eyes fixed insolently on Ron.

"_This boy is fun to mess with, the man wants that rat."_ Crookshanks mewed.

"Just keep him over there, that's all," said Ron irritably, turning back to his star chart. "I've got Scabbers asleep in my bag."

James yawned. She really wanted to go to bed, but she had to make sure the twins got her order and the money to pay for it.

"You can copy mine, if you like," said Ron, labeling his last star with a flourish and shoving the chart toward Harry.

Hermione, who disapproved of copying, pursed her lips but didn't say anything. Crookshanks was still staring unblinkingly at Ron, flicking the end of his bushy tail. Then, without warning, he pounced.

"_Must get rat for man."_ He hissed.

"No Crookshanks!" James hissed back lunging for the cat.

"OY!" Ron roared, seizing his bag as Crookshanks sank four sets of claws deep inside it and began tearing ferociously. "GET OFF, YOU STUPID ANIMAL!"

Ron tried to pull the bag away from Crookshanks, but Crookshanks clung on, spitting and slashing.

"Ron, don't hurt him!" squealed Hermione; the whole common room was watching; Ron whirled the bag around, Crookshanks still clinging to it, and Scabbers came flying out of the top —

"Oh no…" James groaned on the ground.

"CATCH THAT CAT!" Ron yelled as Crookshanks freed himself from the remnants of the bag, sprang over the table, and chased after the terrified Scabbers.

George Weasley made a lunge for Crookshanks but missed landing on James; Scabbers streaked through twenty pairs of legs and shot beneath an old chest of drawers. Crookshanks skidded to a halt, crouched low on his bandy legs, and started making furious swipes beneath it with his front paw.

Ron and Hermione hurried over; Hermione grabbed Crookshanks around the middle and heaved him away; Ron threw himself onto his stomach and, with great difficulty, pulled Scabbers out by the tail.

"Look at him!" he said furiously to Hermione, dangling Scabbers in front of her. "He's skin and bone! You keep that cat away from him!"

"Crookshanks doesn't understand it's wrong!" said Hermione, her voice shaking. "All cats chase rats, Ron!"

"There's something funny about that animal!" said Ron, who was trying to persuade a frantically wiggling Scabbers back into his pocket. "It heard me say that Scabbers was in my bag!"

"Oh, what rubbish," said Hermione impatiently. "Crookshanks could smell him, Ron, how else d'you think —"

"That cat's got it in for Scabbers!" said Ron, ignoring the people around him, who were completely quiet. "And Scabbers was here first, and he's ill!"

Ron marched through the common room but froze his mouth dropping at the two lip locked on the floor, George scrambled up and James quickly got up both red in the face. They snuck a look at the other before James raced off towards her dormitory to write a letter to Charlie.

Ron was still in a bad mood with Hermione next day. He barely talked to her all through Herbology, even though he, Harry, James, and Hermione were working together on the same Puffapod.

"How's Scabbers?" Hermione asked timidly as they stripped fat pink pods from the plants and emptied the shining beans into a wooden pail.

"He's hiding at the bottom of my bed, shaking," said Ron angrily, missing the pail and scattering beans over the greenhouse floor.

"Careful, Weasley, careful!" cried Professor Sprout as the beans burst into bloom before their very eyes.

They had Transfiguration next and they were learning more about Animagi and James couldn't wait she may or may not have been brewing said potion for it, but she was distracted, however, by a disturbance at the front of the line. Lavender Brown seemed to be crying. Parvati had her arm around her and was explaining something to Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were looking very serious.

"What's the matter, Lavender?" said Hermione anxiously as she, Harry, James, and Ron went to join the group.

"She got a letter from home this morning," Parvati whispered. "It's her rabbit, Binky. He's been killed by a fox."

"Oh," said Hermione, "I'm sorry, Lavender."

"I should have known!" said Lavender tragically. "You know what day it is?"

"Er —"

"The sixteenth of October! 'That thing you're dreading, it will happen on the sixteenth of October!' Remember? She was right, she was right!"

The whole class was gathered around Lavender now. Seamus shook his head seriously. Hermione hesitated; then she said, "You — you were dreading Binky being killed by a fox?"

"Well, not necessarily by a fox," said Lavender, looking up at Hermione with streaming eyes, "but I was obviously dreading him dying, wasn't I?"

"If you have to ask then no you weren't" James said rolling her eyes.

"Oh," said Hermione. She paused again. Then —

"Was Binky an old rabbit?"

"N — no!" sobbed Lavender. "H — he was only a baby!"

Parvati tightened her arm around Lavender's shoulders.

"But then, why would you dread him dying?" said Hermione.

Parvati glared at her but she backed off when James glared right back at her.

"Well, look at it logically," said Hermione, turning to the rest of the group. "I mean, Binky didn't even die today, did he? Lavender just got the news today —" Lavender wailed loudly. "– and she can't have been dreading it, because it's come as a real shock —"

"Don't mind Hermione, Lavender," said Ron loudly, "she doesn't think other people's pets matter very much."

"Don't mind Ron, Hermione," said James mockingly, "He doesn't think when he's angry."

Professor McGonagall opened the classroom door at that moment, which was perhaps lucky; Hermione and Ron were looking daggers at each other, and when they got into class, they seated themselves on either side of Harry and James not talk to each other for the whole class.

James could have just left, but McGonagall just had to bring up Hogsmeade.

"One moment, please!" she called as the class made to leave. "As you're all in my House, you should hand Hogsmeade permission forms to me before Halloween. No form, no visiting the village, so don't forget!"

Neville put up his hand.

"Please, Professor, I — I think I've lost —"

"Your grandmother sent yours to me directly, Longbottom," said Professor McGonagall. "She seemed to think it was safer. Well, that's all, you may leave."

"There's always the feast," said Ron, in an effort to cheer Harry and James up. "You know, the Halloween feast, in the evening."

"Yeah," said Harry gloomily, "great."

The Halloween feast was always good, but it would taste a lot better if he was coming to it after a day in Hogsmeade with everyone else. Nothing anyone said made him feel any better about being left behind. Dean Thomas, who was good with a quill, had offered to forge Uncle Vernon's signature on the form, but James said that McGonagall had one of those anti-forgers, so that was no good. Ron halfheartedly suggested the Invisibility Cloak, but Hermione stamped on that one, reminding Ron what Dumbledore had told them about the Dementors being able to see through them.

Percy had what were possibly the least helpful words of comfort. He also glared at James a lot.

"They make a fuss about Hogsmeade, but I assure you, Harry, Black, it's not all it's cracked up to be," he said seriously. "All right, the sweetshop's rather good, and Zonko's Joke Shop's frankly dangerous, and yes, the Shrieking Shack's always worth a visit, but really, Harry, Black, apart from that, you're not missing anything."

On Halloween morning, James awoke with the rest and went down to breakfast, feeling thoroughly depressed, though doing her best to act normally.

"We'll bring you lots of sweets back from Honeydukes," said Hermione, looking desperately sorry for them.

"Yeah, loads," said Ron. He and Hermione had finally forgotten their squabble about Crookshanks in the face of their difficulties.

"Don't worry about us," said Harry, in what he hoped was at, offhand voice, "We'll see you at the feast. Have a good time."

They accompanied them to the entrance hall, where Filch, the caretaker, was standing inside the front doors, checking off names against a long list, peering suspiciously into every face, and making sure that no one was sneaking out who shouldn't be going.

"Staying here, Potter, Black?" shouted Malfoy, who was standing in line with Crabbe and Goyle. "Scared of passing the Dementors?"

"Oh God Damn it! I could of used Lucius! Shit," James cursed looking ready to slam her head into a pillar.

They made their solitary way up the marble staircase, through the deserted corridors, and back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Password?" said the Fat Lady, jerking out of a doze.

"Fortuna Major," said James listlessly.

The portrait swung open and he climbed through the hole into the common room. It was full of chattering first-and second-years, and a few older students, who had obviously visited Hogsmeade so often the novelty had worn off.

"Harry! James! Hi, Harry! Hi, James!"

It was Colin Creevey, a second year who was deeply in awe of Harry and never missed an opportunity to speak to him. Colin Creevey also had a crush on James and would be seen with a JB, Fan club badge. That's right folks James had a fan club, she had even caught Neville, Dean, and Seamus with one and she had smacked them promptly.

"Aren't you going to Hogsmeade, Harry, James? Why not? Hey —" Colin looked eagerly around at his friends — "you can come and sit with us, if you like, Harry, James!"

"Er — no, thanks, Colin," said Harry, who wasn't in the mood to have a lot of people staring avidly at the scar on his forehead. "I — I've got to go to the library, got to get some work done."

"I-I-I Uh have a letter to write, sorry Colin." James said making an escape, she had seen his friends with their own JB badge. James ran off quickly to see a new letter and a package on her bed.

Jay,

I'm glad you haven't been letting the others get to you. You're really strong emotionally to be a teenage girl, aren't you? HaHa, glare all you want but I can't see it. Do you mind sending a picture? Most of the guys here on the reservation think your my girlfriend, ha. Also, you've lost your first kiss to George? Now that must have sucked, don't tell him I said that. So your kiss was stolen due to a race to catch a cat? That sucks epically. So I got you a gift, I know it's Halloween not your birthday or Christmas but I saw them and thought of you. Hope you like them.

From,

Char

James smiled and giggled before looking at the present and ripping it open to see two earrings, they were moving magically, it was a stud of silver in the shape of a wolf that was charmed to look like it was running. James frowned slightly before running over to her cosmetics book to see if she could find a spell for it. On chapter 9 she found it and quickly preformed the charm on both ears for the ear rings, looking in the mirror she giggled before running downstairs grabbing Colin who had his camera with him and going towards the tree near the black lake.

"Take a picture for me, Colin?" James asked with a smile and Colin nodded with a blush and James smiled brightly and leaned against the tree and made sure her hair wasn't in the way and you could see her ear rings. Colin took 5 pictures for some reason and then he took her towards the tower again and drug her towards the second year boys dorm where his friends were. They all blushed when James entered the room but soon Colin had a picture ready for her and gave it to her with a sigh and James so giddy kissed his cheek and ran upstairs to get write a letter.

Char,

Here's your bloody picture. ;) I love the ear rings, you shouldn't have, I'm serious you shouldn't have. They are bloody amazing though. So how have you've been? Any new burns? Yes it sucked because he didn't really want to kiss me and neither did I. Did I tell you I have a fan club? Well then now I did, it's called the JB Fan club, I think their off their bloody rockers to make a fan club for me of all people. But whatever, not going to Hogsmeade sucks Char, there is nothing to do, but write you, not that it's a chore or anything but when I write to you it's going to be over soon and then I'm going to be bored. Also Happy Halloween Enjoy your sweets Mwuahahahahah!

From.

Jay

James quickly put the parchment and picture in an envelope with a tiny bag of candy, it held a lot because of a bottomless charm it looked small, but really wasn't. James took the things and ran to the owlry to send it off by a school owl.

"There you go," said Ron. "We got as much as we could carry."

A shower of brilliantly colored sweets fell into Harry's and James's laps. It was dusk, and Ron and Hermione had just turned up in the common room, pink-faced from the cold wind and looking as though they'd had the time of their lives.

"Thanks," said Harry, picking up a packet of tiny black Pepper Imps. "What's Hogsmeade like? Where did you go?"

By the sound of it — everywhere. Dervish and Banges, the wizarding equipment shop, Zonko's Joke Shop, into the Three Broomsticks for foaming mugs of hot butterbeer, and many places besides.

"The post office, you two! About two hundred owls, all sitting on shelves, all color-coded depending on how fast you want your letter to get there!"

"Honeydukes has got a new kind of fudge; they were giving out free samples, there's a bit, look —"

"We think we saw an ogre, honestly, they get all sorts at the Three Broomsticks —"

"Wish we could have brought you some butterbeer, really warms you up —"

"What did you do?" said Hermione, looking anxious. "Did you get any work done?"

"No," said Harry. "Lupin made me a cup of tea in his office. And then Snape came in…"

He told them all about the goblet. Ron's mouth fell open.

"Lupin drank it?" he gasped. "Is he mad?"

"Well what did you, do James? I haven't seen you all day." Harry asked his cousin who he noticed kept touching her ears and blushing.

"Oh, um Charlie sent me a letter, and a present. So I sent him a letter and some candy." James said and showed her ear rings to Hermione who giggled with James. The boys looked at each other as if saying 'Girls'.

Hermione checked her watch.

"We'd better go down, you know, the feast'll be starting in five minutes." They hurried through the portrait hole and into the crowd, still discussing Snape.

"But if he — you know —" Hermione dropped her voice, glancing nervously around, "if he was trying to — to poison Lupin — he wouldn't have done it in front of Harry."

"Yeah, maybe," said Harry as they reached the entrance hall and crossed into the Great Hall. It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant watersnakes.

The food was delicious; even Hermione and Ron, who were full to bursting with Honeydukes sweets, managed second helpings of everything.

Harry kept glancing at the staff table. Professor Lupin looked cheerful and as well as he ever did; he was talking animatedly to tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher. Harry moved his eyes along the table, to the place where Snape sat. Was he imagining it, or were Snape's eyes flickering toward Lupin more often than was natural? The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.

It had been such a pleasant evening that James's good mood couldn't even be spoiled by Malfoy, who shouted through the crowd as they all left the hall, "The Dementors send their love, Potter!"

James, Fred, and George followed the rest of the Gryffindors along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower, but when they reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, they found it jammed with students.

"Why isn't anyone going in?" said Fred curiously.

James peered over the heads in front of her. The portrait seemed to be closed.

"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password — excuse me, I'm Head Boy —"

"No-one cares" George muttered, rolling his eyes causing Fred and James to snort.

And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. They heard Percy say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."

People's heads turned; those at the back were standing on tiptoe.

"What's going on?" said Ginny, who had just arrived.

A moment later, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping toward the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through, and James, Fred, and George moved closer to see what the trouble was.

"Oh, my —" James grabbed the twins' arms.

The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely.

Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes somber, to see Professors McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape hurrying toward him.

"We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice.

It was Peeves the Poltergeist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage or worry.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" said Dumbledore calmly, and Peeves's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle. "Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing." he added unconvincingly.

"Did she say who did it?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Oh yes, Professorhead," said Peeves, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Puppy Black's Daddy, Sirius Black."

Everyone near James besides the twins stepped back and the twins quickly put an arm around her and glared at everyone.

James leaned into the twins, why was her life so difficult?

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So like it, love it? Hate it, horrified by it? Wellllll… tell me in a review. =)

KrisxCross out!~


	9. Chapter 9

Hello my readers! Isn't it a glorious day? Okay, yes I had chocolate, blame my mother! Lol, so go on read the chapter…you know you want to. X)

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Professor Dumbledore sent all the Gryffindors back to the Great Hall, where they were joined ten minutes later by the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, who all looked extremely confused.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added to Percy, who was looking immensely proud and important.

"Send word with one of the ghosts."

Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing…"

One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

"Sleep well," said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him.

The hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Percy. "Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

"C'mon," Fred said to George and James; they seized three sleeping bags and dragged them into a corner.

"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" George whispered anxiously.

"Of course I'm right here," James said mockingly and the twins chuckled slightly

"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be," said Fred.

"It's very lucky he picked tonight, you know," said James as they climbed fully dressed into their sleeping bags and propped themselves on their elbows to talk. "The one night we weren't in the tower…"

"I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," said George. "Didn't realize it was Halloween. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here."

George shuddered.

All around them, people were asking one another the same question: "How did he get in?"

"Maybe he knows how to Apparate," said a Ravenclaw a few feet away, "Just appear out of thin air, you know."

"Disguised himself, probably," said a Hufflepuff fifth year.

"He could've flown in," suggested Dean Thomas.

"Honestly, is Hermione and me the only people who's ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?" said James crossly to Fred and George.

"Probably," said Fred. "Why?"

"Because the castle's protected by more than walls, you know," said James. "There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just Apparate in here. And I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those Dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered…"

"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

"Prat," Fred and George muttered.

The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars. What with that, and the whispering that still filled the hall, James felt as though she were sleeping outdoors in a light wind.

Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the Hall to check that everything was quiet. Around three in the morning, when many students had finally fallen asleep, Professor Dumbledore came in. James watched him looking around for Percy, who had been prowling between the sleeping bags, telling people off for talking. Percy was only a short way away from James, Fred, and George, who quickly pretended to be asleep as Dumbledore's footsteps drew nearer.

"Any sign of him, Professor?" asked Percy in a whisper.

"No. All well here?"

"Everything under control, sir."

"Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."

"And the Fat Lady, sir?"

"Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr. Filch restore her."

James heard the door of the hall creak open again, and more footsteps.

"Headmaster?" It was Snape. Harry kept quite still, listening hard. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either."

"What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?"

"All searched…"

"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" asked Snape.

James raised her head very slightly off her arms to free her other ear.

"Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next."

James opened her eyes a fraction and squinted up to where they stood; Dumbledore's back was to her, but she could see Percy's face, rapt with attention, and Snape's profile, which looked angry.

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before — ah — the start of term?" said Snape, who was barely opening his lips, as though trying to block Percy out of the conversation.

"I do, Severus," said Dumbledore, and there was something like warning in his voice.

"It seems — almost impossible — that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you accepted and appointed —"

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it, student or teacher," said Dumbledore, and his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn't reply. "I must go down to the Dementors," said Dumbledore. "I said I would inform them when our search was complete."

"Didn't they want to help, sir?" said Percy.

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore coldly. "But I'm afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster."

Percy looked slightly abashed. Dumbledore left the hall, walking quickly and quietly. Snape stood for a moment, watching the headmaster with an expression of deep resentment on his face; then he too left.

James glanced sideways at Fred and George. Both of them had their eyes open too, reflecting the starry ceiling.

"What was all that about?" Fred mouthed.

The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Hannah Abbott, from Hufflepuff, spent much of their next Herbology class telling anyone who'd listen that Black could turn into a flowering shrub. James had snorted loudly and had gotten glares although most would laugh to if someone had said that their father could turn into a flowering shrub.

The Fat Lady's ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat gray pony. Nobody was very happy about this. Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed at least twice a day. James, being a Black, she wasn't allowed into the common room until she got pissed and went for McGonagall who told Sir Cadogan that James was the only Black allowed in the common room.

"He's a complete lunatic," said Seamus Finnigan angrily to Percy. "Can't we get anyone else?"

"None of the other pictures wanted the job," said Percy. "Frightened of what happened to the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogan was the only one brave enough to volunteer."

Sir Cadogan, however, was the least of James's worries. She and Harry were now being closely watched. Teachers found excuses to walk along corridors with them, and Percy Weasley (acting, James suspected, on his mother's orders) was tailing Harry everywhere like an extremely pompous guard dog. To cap it all, Professor McGonagall summoned Harry and James into her office, with such a somber expression on her face James thought someone must have died.

"There's no point hiding it from you any longer, Potter," she said in a very serious voice. "I know this will come as a shock to you, but Sirius Black —"

"I know he's after me and want's James," said Harry wearily. "I heard Ron's dad telling his mum. Mr. Weasley works for the Ministry of Magic."

Professor McGonagall seemed very taken aback.

She stared at them for a moment or two, then said, "I see! Well, in that case, Potter, Black, you'll understand why I don't think it's a good idea for you to be practicing Quidditch in the evenings. Out on the field with only your team members, it's very exposed, Potter —"

"We've got our first match on Saturday!" said James, outraged. "I've got to train, Professor! I've never played a match before, I need all the practice I can get!"

Professor McGonagall considered them intently. James knew she was deeply interested in the Gryffindor team's prospects; it had been she, after all, who'd suggested Harry as Seeker in the first Place. She waited, holding her breath.

"Hmm…"Professor McGonagall stood up and stared out of the window at the Quidditch field, just visible through the rain. "Well… goodness knows, I'd like to see us win the Cup at last… but all the same, Potter…Black… I'd be happier if a teacher were present. I'll ask Madam Hooch to oversee your training sessions."

The weather worsened steadily as the first Quidditch match drew nearer. Undaunted, the Gryffindor team was training harder than ever under the eye of Madam Hooch. Then, at their final training session before Saturday's match, Oliver Wood gave his team some unwelcome news.

"We're not playing Slytherin!" he told them, looking very angry.

"What?" James demanded.

"Flint's just been to see me. We're playing Hufflepuff instead."

"Why?" chorused the rest of the team.

"Flint's excuse is that their Seeker's arm's still injured," said Wood, grinding his teeth furiously. "But it's obvious why they're doing it. Don't want to play in this weather. Think it'll damage their chances…"

"Oh that's Bullshit! Fucking Malfoy wasn't even hurt!" James said angrily.

There had been strong winds and heavy rain all day, and as Wood spoke, they heard a distant rumble of thunder.

"There's nothing wrong with Malfoy's arm!" said Harry furiously. "He's faking it! Bastard wasn't even the one hurt, James is the one who took the claws to the face!"

"I know that, but we can't prove it," said Wood bitterly, "And we've been practicing all those moves assuming we're playing Slytherin, and instead it's Hufflepuff, and their style's quite different. They've got a new Captain and Seeker, Cedric Diggory —"

Alicia and Katie suddenly giggled while James rolled her eyes.

"What?" said Wood, frowning at this lighthearted behavior.

"He's that tall, good-looking one, isn't he?" said James mockingly to Oliver with a roll of her eyes.

"Strong and silent," said Katie, and they started to giggle again.

"He's only silent because he's too thick to string two words together," said Fred impatiently. "I don't know why you're worried, Oliver, Hufflepuff is a pushover. Last time we played them, Harry caught the Snitch in about five minutes, remember?"

"We were playing in completely different conditions!" Wood shouted, his eyes bulging slightly. "Diggory's put a very strong side together! He's an excellent Seeker! I was afraid you'd take it like this! We mustn't relax! We must keep our focus! Slytherin is trying to wrong-foot us! We must win!"

"Oliver, calm down!" said Fred, looking slightly alarmed. "We're taking Hufflepuff very seriously. Seriously."

The day before the match, the winds reached howling point and the rain fell harder than ever. It was so dark inside the corridors and classrooms that extra torches and lanterns were lit. The Slytherin team was looking very smug indeed, and none more so than Malfoy.

"Ah, if only my arm was feeling a bit better!" he sighed as the gale outside pounded the windows. James who had been near him grabbed his arm turned around his back and slammed into the wall.

"Your fucking arm is fine, Malfoy. I'm the one that got hurt fucking little snot nosed brat." James hissed making Draco cry out in pain before letting go and high fiving the twins who wore smug smiles at the shocked Slytherins.

James had no room in her head to worry about anything except the match tomorrow. Oliver Wood kept hurrying up to Harry and her between classes and giving them tips. The third time this happened, Wood talked for so long that they suddenly realized they were ten minutes late for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and set off at a run with Wood shouting after them, "Diggory's got a very fast swerve, Harry, so you might want to try looping him —"

They skidded to a halt outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, pulled the door open, and dashed inside.

"Sorry We're late, Professor Lupin. We—"

But it wasn't Professor Lupin who looked up at him from the teacher's desk; it was Snape. James groaned loudly at the sight of him and he docked 20 points for it.

"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, Black, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down."

But Harry didn't move, James did however and took a seat next to Dean Thomas who blushed slightly.

"Where's Professor Lupin?" he said.

"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," said Snape with a twisted smile. "I believe I told you to sit down?"

But Harry stayed where he was.

"What's wrong with him?"

Snape's black eyes glittered and James shuddered.

"Nothing life-threatening," he said, looking as though he wished it were. "Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty."

Harry walked slowly to his seat and sat down. Snape looked around at the class.

"As I was saying before Potter and Black interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far —"

"Please, sir, we've done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas, and Grindylows," said Hermione quickly, "and we're just about to start —"

"Be quiet," said Snape coldly. "I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization."

"Have you even checked?" James called out and Gryffindor lost 10 more points and James thought if the prick took anymore points from her for talking she'd be walking out and too McGonagall, to see what she thought about it.

"He's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had," said Dean Thomas boldly, and there was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the class.

Snape looked more menacing than ever.

"You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly overtaxing you — I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows. Today we shall discuss —"

James watched him flick through the textbook, to the very back chapter, which he must know they hadn't covered.

"— werewolves," said Snape.

"Oh hell no." James said with a glare at him and Snape docked 15 more points and James grabbed her bag.

"Where do you think you're going Black, sit back down." Snape demanded.

"You obviously don't want me here, since you keep docking points from me. So I think I should just leave." James said doing exactly as she said and Snape yelled after her about 50 points. Like she cared, she had a head of house to see. When she got to the classroom she saw Professor McGonagall was teaching a class, Fred and George's class to be exact. She decided to just send a note to McGonagall and she knew she received it when she calmly excused herself. When she came outside she had a stern look on her face.

"Shouldn't you be in class, Black?" She asked seriously with a frown on her face.

"I wasn't going to be treated unfairly like that, so I left." James said as she looked out the window.

"What do you mean by unfairly?" McGonagall asked with scowl.

"Professor Snape, Oliver kept me and Harry ten minutes late to DADA, I know that you can dock points for it but he docked ten each and then twenty from me because I groaned. Then he started off on a tirade about Professor Lupin not being a good teacher and Hermione tried to tell him where we were in the lesson but he ignored her and docked 15 points from me when I asked if he bothered looking for the lesson. Then he said we were going to study werewolves, and I think you know why Professor. I said something and he docked more points and then I left and he shouted fifty points after me." James said looking out the window.

"I see Miss Black, I will have words for Severus, you on the other hand, I want to know how you knew about Remus's condition?" McGonagall asked with a seriousness.

"I read a book from a werewolf's point a view and Professor Lupin's Boggart was a full moon. I put that and that today is a full moon, that Professor Lupin is a certain something." James finished and McGonagall nodded.

"You are not allowed to tell anyone and I will talk to Professor Snape about how he should treat his students. Now why don't you come inside, learn something advanced. You have an hour and a half left, Black." McGonagall said and she opened the door and James came in much to the twins delight. McGonagall rolled her eyes when James took the seat in between the twins who started to show her what they were doing and the three were actually quite productive, much to McGonagall's shock.

James woke up to a loud wail of thunder and she groaned at what the time was. So she got dressed and grabbed her Nimbus 2001 and one and went downstairs with her Chaser gloves in her hands. The noise of the storm was even louder in the common room. James knew better than to think the match would be canceled; Quidditch matches weren't called off for trifles like thunderstorms. Nevertheless, she was starting to feel very apprehensive. Wood had pointed out Cedric Diggory to her in the corridor; Diggory was a fifth year and a lot bigger than Harry. Seekers were usually light and speedy, but Diggory's weight would be an advantage in this weather because he was less likely to be blown off course.

James whiled away the hours until dawn in front of the fire, getting up every now and then to stop Crookshanks from sneaking up the boys' staircase again with Harry. At long last James thought it must be time for breakfast, so he headed through the portrait hole with Harry.

"Stand and fight, you mangy cur!" yelled Sir Cadogan.

"Oh, shut up," James yawned.

Harry revived a bit over a large bowl of porridge, and by the time he'd started on toast, the rest of the team had turned up. James was eating eggs and bacon with some tea.

"It's going to be a tough one," said Wood, who wasn't eating anything, until James stuffed a biscuit with eggs and bacon and put it on a plate shoving it a Oliver. He gave a strained smile but ate at her glare.

"Stop worrying, Oliver," said Alicia soothingly, "we don't mind a bit of rain."

But it was considerably more than a bit of rain. Such was the popularity of Quidditch that the whole school turned out to watch the match as usual, but they ran down the lawns toward the Quidditch field, heads bowed against the ferocious wind, umbrellas being whipped out of their hands as they went. just before she entered the locker room, James saw Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, laughing and pointing at her and Harry from under an enormous umbrella on their way to the stadium.

The team changed into their scarlet robes and waited for Wood's usual pre-match pep talk, but it didn't come. He tried to speak several times, made an odd gulping noise, then shook his head hopelessly and beckoned them to follow him.

The wind was so strong that they staggered sideways as they walked out onto the field. If the crowd was cheering, they couldn't hear it over the fresh rolls of thunder. Rain was splattering over in James' eyes and she was freezing, Fred noticing cast a warming charm on her.

The Hufflepuffs were approaching from the opposite side of the field, wearing canary-yellow robes. The Captains walked up to each other and shook hands; Diggory smiled at Wood but Wood now looked as though he had lockjaw and merely nodded. James saw Madam Hooch's mouth form the words, "Mount Your brooms." She pulled her right foot out of the mud with a squelch and swung it over her Nimbus Two Thousand and one. Madam Hooch put her whistle to her lips and gave it a blast that sounded shrill and distant — they were off.

James rose fast, but her Nimbus was swerving slightly with the wind. She held it as steady as she could and turned, squinting into the rain barely catching the quaffle and zooming off towards the Hufflepuff goal post, scoring the first goal and barely dodging a bludger. James zoomed after the person she saw grab the Quaffle and soon she stole it passing it to Alicia who scored.

Within five minutes James was soaked to her skin, hardly able to see her teammates, and had put in four goals out of the ten they had.

She flew backward and forward across the field past blurred red and yellow shapes, with no idea of what was happening in the rest of the game besides where the Quaffle was. She couldn't hear the commentary over the wind. The crowd was hidden beneath a sea of cloaks and battered umbrellas. Twice James came very close to being unseated by a Bludger; her vision was so clouded by the rain she barely seen them coming.

She lost track of time. It was getting harder and harder to hold her broom straight. The sky was getting darker, as though night had decided to come early. Twice James hit another player, without knowing whether it was a teammate or opponent; everyone was now so wet, and the rain so thick, she could hardly tell them apart…

With the first flash of lightning came the sound of Madam Hooch's whistle; James could just see the outline of Wood through the thick rain, gesturing him to the ground. The whole team splashed down into the mud.

"I called for time-out!" Wood roared at his team. "Come on, under here —"

They huddled at the edge of the field under a large umbrella; Harry took off his glasses and wiped them hurriedly on his robes. James held on to Fred and George who were casting warming charms left and right. James herself was ghostly pale and her lips were turning blue.

"What's the score?"

"We're fifty points up," said Wood, "but unless we get the Snitch soon, we'll be playing into the night."

"I've got no chance with these on," Harry said exasperatedly, waving his glasses.

At that very moment, Hermione appeared at his shoulder; she was holding her cloak over her head and was, inexplicably, beaming.

"I've had an idea, Harry! Give me your glasses, quick!"

He handed them to her, and as the team watched in amazement, Hermione tapped them with her wand and said, "Impervius!"

"There!" she said, handing them back to Harry. "They'll repel water!"

Wood looked as though he could have kissed her.

"Brilliant!" he called hoarsely after her as she disappeared into the crowd. "Okay, team, let's go for it!"

Hermione's spell had done the trick. Harry was still numb with cold, still wetter than he'd ever been in his life, but he could see. Full of fresh determination, he urged his broom through the turbulent air, staring in every direction for the Snitch, avoiding a Bludger, ducking beneath Diggory, who was streaking in the opposite direction…

There was another clap of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. This was getting more and more dangerous. Harry needed to get the Snitch quickly —

James turned, intending to head back toward the middle of the field, but at that moment, another flash of lightning illuminated the stands, and James saw something that distracted her completely, the silhouette of an enormous shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in the topmost, empty row of seats. No, he couldn't be here, the Dementors…they only go after people don't they…and that means he's an Animagi…he's been using his form to…Oh my merlin…

James numb hands slipped on the broom handle and her Nimbus dropped a few feet. Shaking her sodden bangs out of her eyes, he squinted back into the stands. The dog had vanished.

"Harry!" came Wood's anguished yell from the Gryffindor goal posts. "Harry, behind you!"

Harry looked wildly around. Cedric Diggory was pelting up the field, and a tiny speck of gold was shimmering in the rain-filled air between them…

With a jolt of panic, Harry threw himself flat to the broom handle and zoomed toward the Snitch.

"Come on!" he growled at his Nimbus as the rain whipped his face. "Faster!"

But something odd was happening. An eerie silence was falling across the stadium. The wind, though as strong as ever, was forgetting to roar. It was as though someone had turned off the sound, as though James had gone suddenly deaf — what was going on?

And then a horribly familiar wave of cold swept over her, inside her, just as she became aware of something moving on the field below…

Before she'd had time to think, James had taken her eyes off Harry and looked down.

At least a hundred Dementors, their hidden faces pointing up at him, were standing beneath them.

It was as though freezing water were rising in her chest, cutting at her insides. And then she heard it again… Someone was screaming, screaming inside her head… a woman…her mother… pushing that aside she flew off towards the twins and all three flew off with Dementors chasing after them, some going for the other players as well. Then they watched as Harry fell from at least a hundred feet, Dumbledore stood up casting, expecto patronum and then a cushioning charm for Harry. Everyone flew down and the Dementors were gone they chased after Madam Promfrey who then had the boy on a hospital bed and Harry look so lifeless that James had to grab the twins so she didn't collapse.

"Lucky the ground was so soft." Katie said with a frown.

"I thought he was dead for sure." Alicia said shuddering.

"But he didn't even break his glasses." Fred tried to joke but everyone was to tense to appreciate it then.

"That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life." James said with a frown, she had taken a quick shower and changed into clean and dry fluffy sweater and nice comfy jeans with sneaker on her feet.

Harry's eyes snapped open. He was lying in the hospital wing. The Gryffindor Quidditch team, spattered with mud from head to foot, was gathered around his bed. Ron and Hermione were also there, looking as though they'd just climbed out of a swimming pool. James was the only one dry, and he knew that once she heard he would be alright she had probably went for a shower and clean clothes.

"Harry!" said Fred, who looked extremely white underneath, the mud. "How're you feeling?"

Harry looked to be in deep thought, he was so pale.

"What happened?" he said, sitting up so suddenly they all gasped.

"You fell off," said Fred. "Must've been — what — fifty feet?"

"I'd say a hundred." James said with a shudder.

"We thought you'd died," said Alicia, who was shaking.

Hermione made a small, squeaky noise. Her eyes were extremely bloodshot.

"But the match," said Harry. "What happened? Are we doing a replay?"

No one said anything. The horrible truth sank into Harry like a stone.

"We didn't — lose?"

"Diggory got the Snitch," said George. "Just after you fell. He didn't realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch. But they won fair and square… even Wood admits it."

"Where is Wood?" said Harry, suddenly realizing he wasn't there.

"Still in the showers," said James. "We think he's trying to drown himself."

Harry put his face to his knees, his hands gripping his hair. James grabbed his shoulder and shook it roughly.

"C'mon, Harry, you've never missed the Snitch before." She said with a forcefulness you rarely seen with James.

"There had to be one time you didn't get it," said George.

"It's not over yet," said Fred. "We lost by a hundred points."

"Right? So if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin…"

"Hufflepuff'll have to lose by at least two hundred points," said James.

"But if they beat Ravenclaw…"

"No way, Ravenclaw is too good. But if Slytherin loses against Hufflepuff…"

"It all depends on the points — a margin of a hundred either way —"

Harry lay there, not saying a word.

After ten minutes or so, Madam Promfrey came over to tell the team to leave him in peace.

"We'll come and see you later," Fred told him. "Don't beat yourself up Harry, you're still the best Seeker we've ever had."

The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Madam Promfrey shut the door behind them, looking disapproving at James who pulled the Family card. James, Ron, and Hermione moved nearer to Harry's bed.

"Dumbledore was really angry," Hermione said in a quaking voice. "I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the Dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away… He was furious they'd come onto the grounds. We heard him —"

"Then Promfrey magicked you onto a stretcher," said Ron. "And walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were…"

His voice faded, but Harry hardly noticed. He looked up and saw Ron and Hermione looking at him so anxiously that he quickly cast around for something matter-of-fact to say.

"Did someone get my Nimbus?"

Ron and Hermione looked quickly at each other and James had turned paler.

"Er —"

"What?" said Harry, looking from one to the other.

"Well… when you fell off, it got blown away," said Hermione hesitantly.

"And?"

"And it hit — it hit — oh, Harry — it hit the Whomping Willow." James said looking away from him not meeting his eyes.

Harry's insides lurched. The Whomping Willow was a very violent tree that stood alone in the middle of the grounds.

"And?" he said, dreading the answer.

"Well, you know the Whomping Willow," said Ron. "It — it doesn't like being hit."

"Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came around," said Hermione in a very small voice.

Slowly, James reached down for a bag at her feet, turned it upside down, and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed, the only remains of Harry's faithful, finally beaten broomstick.

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Love it, hate it? That is question. Lol that song's stuck in my head, so review! X)

KrisxCross out!~


	10. Chapter 10

Hello wonderful readers! I now present to you! The tenth chapter! WOOOHOOOO! YAY! Lol please enjoy!

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James felt horrible, about her cousin Harry but what could she do? Nothing, so that's what she did nothing, it's not like he visited her when she was hurt by the hippogriff. So she spent her days writing to Charlie or hanging out with the twins. James also noticed something off about Fred; he seemed very protective and was always sneaking glances at her. She would think he had a crush on her if she didn't know him. Why would he like her anyway? Plus Alicia liked Fred and said girl had told James to back off her Twin. James had then told Alicia to shove it and that she was only friends with the Twins. This had caused tension in the team but James and Alicia still held their ground, James had done nothing wrong. Also James has taken to wearing the Black family necklace more often to piss off Malfoy who had been showing off his Malfoy ring he had gotten for his last birthday. She was on her way with Harry, Ron, and Hermione to Defense Against the Dark Arts, Snape had backed off James completely and she had McGonagall to thank for that.

"If Snape's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts again, I'm skiving off," said Ron as they headed toward Lupin's classroom after lunch.

"You bet I'm with you on that one mate." James said with a grimace.

"Check who's in there, Hermione."

Hermione peered around the classroom door.

"It's okay!"

Professor Lupin was back at work. It certainly looked as though he had been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes; nevertheless, he smiled at the class as they took their seats, and they burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Snape's behavior while Lupin had been ill.

"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he give us homework?"

"It's not fair that he kept taking points off me!"

"We don't know anything about werewolves —"

"— two rolls of parchment!"

"Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?" Lupin asked, frowning slightly.

The babble broke out again.

"Yes but the bloody bastard wouldn't listen!"

"Yes, but he said we were really behind —"

"— he wouldn't listen —"

"— two rolls of parchment!"

Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on every face.

"Don't worry. I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay."

"Oh no," said Hermione, looking very disappointed. "I've already finished it!"

"I didn't even know we had it, it's okay Hermione." James said patting Hermione's head who glared at her slightly.

They had a very enjoyable lesson. Professor Lupin had brought along a glass box containing a Hinkypunk, a little one-legged creature who looked as though he were made of wisps of smoke, rather frail and harmless looking.

"Lures travelers into bogs," said Professor Lupin as they took notes. "You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hops ahead — people follow the light — then —"

The Hinkypunk made a horrible squelching noise against the glass.

When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, James among them, but —

"Wait a moment, Harry, James," Lupin called. "I'd like a word."

James doubled back and watched Professor Lupin covering the Hinkypunk's box with a cloth.

"I heard about the match," said Lupin looking at Harry, James wondered what the hell she was doing there then, turning back to his desk and starting to pile books into his briefcase, "and I'm sorry about your broomstick. Is there any chance of fixing it?"

"No," said Harry. "The tree smashed it to bits."

Lupin sighed.

"They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts. People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk. In the end, a boy called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance."

"Did you hear about the Dementors too?" said Harry with difficulty.

Lupin looked at him quickly. James wanted to just leave but she knew Lupin would notice.

"Yes, I did. I don't think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time… furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds… I suppose they were the reason you fell?"

"Yes," said Harry. He hesitated, and then the question he had to ask burst from him before he could stop himself. "Why? Why do they affect me like that? Am I just —?"

"It has nothing to do with weakness," said Professor Lupin sharply. "The Dementors affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that the others don't have. Yours more than anything James, I have to say, how did you handle it? "

A ray of wintry sunlight fell across the classroom, illuminating Lupin's gray hairs and the lines on his young face. James mind flashed to her father, she hadn't told anyone afraid for him. It was selfish thought, but she couldn't hope but believe he was innocent.

"Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself — soul-less and evil. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that happened to you, Harry, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of."

"When they get near me —" Harry stared at Lupin's desk, his throat tight. "I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum."

"I hear my mom being tortured, I see it too. I only through it off because of the twins, they were screaming nearby." James said with a frown and looking outside.

Lupin made a sudden motion with his arm as though to grip their shoulders, but thought better of it. There was a moment's silence, then —

"Why did they have to come to the match?" said Harry bitterly.

"A feast," James said with a grimace.

"They're getting hungry," said Lupin coolly nodding at James, shutting his briefcase with a snap. "Dumbledore won't let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up… I don't think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch field. All that excitement… emotions running high… it was their idea of a feast."

"Azkaban must be terrible," James muttered. Lupin nodded grimly.

"The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don't need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they're all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheery thought. Most of them go mad within weeks."

"But Sirius Black escaped from them," Harry said slowly. "He got away…"

Lupin's briefcase slipped from the desk; he had to stoop quickly to catch it.

"Yes," he said, straightening up, "Black must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn't have believed it possible… Dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of his powers if he is left with them too long…"

"You made that Dementor on the train back off," said Harry suddenly.

"There are — certain defenses one can use," said Lupin. "But there was only one Dementor on the train. The more there are, the more difficult it becomes to resist."

"What defenses?" said Harry at once. "Can you teach me?"

"I don't pretend to be an expert at fighting Dementors, Harry — quite the contrary…"

"But if the Dementors come to another Quidditch match, I need to be able to fight them —"

Lupin looked into Harry's determined face, hesitated, then said, "Well… all right. I'll try and help. But it'll have to wait until next term, I'm afraid. I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill."

What with the promise of anti-Dementor lessons from Lupin, the thought that she might never have to hear and see her mother's torture again, and the fact that Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff in their Quidditch match at the end of November, James mood took a definite upturn. Gryffindor were not out of the running after all, although they could not afford to lose another match. Wood became repossessed of his manic energy, and worked his team as hard as ever in the chilly haze of rain that persisted into December. James saw no hint of a Dementor within the grounds. Dumbledore's anger seemed to be keeping them at their stations at the entrances.

Two weeks before the end of the term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, had already decorated his classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be real, fluttering fairies. The students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays. Both Ron and Hermione had decided to remain at Hogwarts, and though Ron said it was because he couldn't stand two weeks with Percy, and Hermione insisted she needed to use the library, James wasn't fooled; they were doing it to keep them company, and she was very grateful.

To everyone's delight except James's and Harry's, there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of the term.

"We can do all our Christmas shopping there!" said Hermione. "Mum and Dad would really love those Toothflossing Stringmints from Honeydukes!"

Resigned to the fact that they would be the only third years staying behind again, James borrowed a copy of Pranks of the centuries from the twins, and decided to spend the day reading up on the different pranks. She had some planning to do, she wanted to prank someone.

On the Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Harry and James bid good-bye to Ron and Hermione, who were wrapped in cloaks and scarves, then turned up the marble staircase alone, and headed back toward Gryffindor Tower. Snow had started to fall outside the windows, and the castle was very still and quiet.

"Psst — James! Harry!"

They turned, halfway along the third-floor corridor, to see Fred and George peering out at them from behind a statue of a humpbacked, one-eyed witch.

"What are you doing?" asked James curiously, with a tilt of her head and Fred petted her head. "How come you're not going to Hogsmeade?"

"We've come to give you a bit of festive cheer before we go," said Fred, with a mysterious wink. "Come in here…"

He nodded toward an empty classroom to the left of the one-eyed statue. They followed Fred and George inside. George closed the door quietly and then turned, beaming, to look at them.

"Early Christmas present for you, James, Harry," he said.

Fred pulled something from inside his cloak with a flourish and laid it on one of the desks. It was a large, square, very worn piece of parchment with nothing written on it. James, suspecting one of Fred and George's jokes, raised an eyebrow at it.

"What's that supposed to be?" James asked, her curiosity getting better over her.

"This, James, is the secret of our success," said George, patting the parchment fondly.

"It's a wrench, giving it to you two," said Fred, "but we decided last night, your need's greater than ours."

"Anyway, we know it by heart," said George. "We bequeath it to you both. We don't really need it anymore."

"And what do I need with a bit of old parchment?" said Harry. James looked at Harry with mocking wide eyes, she knew the twins wouldn't make something like this up.

"A bit of old parchment!" said Fred, closing his eyes with a grimace as though Harry had mortally offended him. "Explain, George."

"Well… when we were in our first year, Harry — young, carefree, and innocent —"

Harry snorted. He doubted whether Fred and George had ever been innocent.

"Suuurrrreeee…" James stressed out and Fred bopped her on the head with the parchment.

" — well, more innocent than we are now — we got into a spot of bother with Filch."

"We let off a Dungbomb in the corridor and it upset him for some reason —"

"So he hauled us off to his office and started threatening us with the usual —"

"— detention —"

"— disembowelment —"

"— and we couldn't help noticing a drawer in one of his filing cabinets marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous."

"Don't tell me —" said James, starting to grin.

"Well, what would you've done?" said Fred. "George caused a diversion by dropping another Dungbomb, I whipped the drawer open, and grabbed — this."

"It's not as bad as it sounds, you know," said George. "We don't reckon Filch ever found out how to work it. He probably suspected what it was, though, or he wouldn't have confiscated it."

"And you know how to work it?"

"Oh yes," said Fred, smirking. "This little beauty's taught us more than all the teachers in this school."

"You're winding me up," said Harry, looking at the ragged old bit of parchment.

"Oh, are we?" said George.

He took out his wand, touched the parchment lightly, and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that George's wand had touched. They joined each other, they crisscrossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed:

Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP

It was a map showing every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds. But the truly remarkable things were the tiny ink dots moving around it, each labeled with a name in minuscule writing. The name padfoot and moony had her stomach clenched, her dreams from second year coming into focus.

Astounded, James bent over it. A labeled dot in the top left corner showed that Professor Dumbledore was pacing his study; the caretaker's cat, Mrs. Norris, was prowling the second floor; and Peeves the Poltergeist was currently bouncing around the trophy room. And as James's eyes travelled up and down the familiar corridors, she noticed something else.

This map showed a set of passages she had never entered. And many of them seemed to lead —

"Right into Hogsmeade," said Fred, tracing one of them with his finger.

"There are seven in all. Now, Filch knows about these four" — he pointed them out — "but we're sure we're the only ones who know about these. Don't bother with the one behind the mirror on the fourth floor. We used it until last winter, but it's caved in — completely blocked. And we don't reckon anyone's ever used this one, because the Whomping Willow's planted right over the entrance. But this one here, this one leads right into the cellar of Honeydukes. We've used it loads of times. And as you might've noticed, the entrance is right outside this room, through that one-eyed old crone's hump."

"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," sighed George, patting the heading of the map. "We owe them so much."

"Noble men, working tirelessly to help a new generation of lawbreakers," said Fred solemnly.

"Right," said George briskly. "Don't forget to wipe it after you've used it —"

"— or anyone can read it," Fred said warningly.

"Just tap it again and say, 'Mischief managed!' And it'll go blank."

"So, young James, Harry," said Fred, in an uncanny impersonation of Percy, "mind you both behave yourselves."

"See you both in Honeydukes," said George, winking.

They left the room, both smirking in a satisfied sort of way.

James stood there, gazing at the miraculous map. She watched the tiny ink Mrs. Norris turn left and pause to sniff at something on the floor. If Filch really didn't know… she wouldn't have to pass the Dementors at all…

But even as she stood there, flooded with excitement, something James had once heard Mr. Weasley say came floating out of his memory.

Never trust anything that can think for itself, if you can't see where it keeps its brain. This map was one of those dangerous magical objects Mr. Weasley had been warning against… Aids for Magical Mischief Makers… but then, James reasoned, she only wanted to use it to get into Hogsmeade, it wasn't as though she wanted to steal anything or attack anyone… and Fred and George had been using it for years without anything horrible happening…

Harry traced the secret passage to Honeydukes with his finger. James and Harry locked eyes before smirking.

Then, quite suddenly, as though following orders, she rolled up the map, stuffed it inside her robes, and hurried to the door of the classroom. She opened it a couple of inches. There was no one outside. Very carefully, she edged out of the room and behind the statue of the one-eyed witch.

What did she have to do? She pulled out the map again and saw to her astonishment, that a new ink figure had appeared upon it, labeled 'James Black'. This figure was standing exactly where the real James was standing, about halfway down the third-floor corridor 'Harry Potter' was standing right next to her too. Harry watched carefully. His little Ink self appeared to be tapping the witch with his minute wand. Harry quickly took out his real wand and tapped the statue. Nothing happened. He looked back at the map. The tiniest speech bubble had appeared next to his figure. The word inside said, 'Dissendium.'

"Dissendium!" Harry whispered, tapping the stone witch again.

At once, the statue's hump opened wide enough to admit a fairly thin person. James glanced quickly up and down the corridor, then tucked the map away again, hoisted herself into the hole headfirst, and pushed herself forward.

She slid a considerable way down what felt like a stone slide, then landed on cold, damp earth. She stood up, looking around. It was pitch dark. She held up her wand, muttered, "Lumos!" and saw that she was in a very narrow, low, earthy passageway. She raised the map, tapped it with the tip of her wand, and muttered, "Mischief managed!" The map went blank at once. She folded it carefully, tucked it inside her robes, then, heart beating fast, both excited and apprehensive, she set off Harry right behind her.

The passage twisted and turned, more like the burrow of a giant rabbit than anything else. Harry hurried along it, stumbling now and then on the uneven floor, holding his wand out in front of him.

It took ages, but James had the thought of Honeydukes to sustain her. After what felt like an hour, the passage began to rise. Panting, Harry sped up, right in front of James.

Ten minutes later, they came to the foot of some worn stone steps, which rose out of sight above them. Careful not to make any noise, Harry and James began to climb. A hundred steps, two hundred steps, they lost count as they climbed, watching their feet… then, without warning, Harry's head hit something hard and James couldn't stop a giggle or two.

It seemed to be a trapdoor. Harry stood there, massaging the top of his head, listening. James couldn't hear any sounds above them. Very slowly, Harry pushed the trapdoor open and they peered over the edge.

They were in a cellar, which was full of wooden crates and boxes. James climbed out of the trapdoor after Harry and replaced it — it blended so perfectly with the dusty floor that it was impossible to tell it was there. Harry crept slowly toward the wooden staircase that led upstairs. Now he could definitely hear voices, not to mention the tinkle of a bell and the opening and shutting of a door. James quickly cast a transfiguration on herself so that now she was a curly haired blond with blue eyes. Harry taking the hint changed himself as well, he just couldn't get rid of the scar so he kept his hair long.

Wondering what she ought to do, she suddenly heard a door open much closer at hand; somebody was about to come downstairs.

"And get another box of Jelly Slugs, dear, they've nearly cleaned us out —" said a woman's voice.

A pair of feet was coming down the staircase. They leapt behind an enormous crate and waited for the footsteps to pass. James heard the man shifting boxes against the opposite wall. They might not get another chance —

Quickly and silently, They dodged out from their hiding place and climbed the stairs; looking back, James saw an enormous backside and shiny bald head, buried in a box. Harry reached the door at the top of the stairs, slipped through it James right behind him, and found there selves behind the counter of Honeydukes — they ducked, crept sideways, and then straightened up.

Honeydukes was so crowded with Hogwarts students that no one looked twice at them

James edged among them, looking around, and suppressed a laugh as she imagined the look that would spread over Dudley's piggy face if he could see where James was now.

There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-colored toffees; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows; there was a large barrel of Every Flavor Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizbees, the levitating sherbet balls that Ron had mentioned; along yet another wall were 'Special Effects' — sweets: Droobles Best Blowing Gum (which filled a room with bluebell-colored bubbles that refused to pop for days), the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, tiny black Pepper Imps ('breathe fire for your friends!'), Ice Mice ('hear your teeth chatter and squeak!'), peppermint creams shaped like toads ('hop realistically in the stomach!'), fragile sugar-spun quills, and exploding bonbons.

James squeezed herself through a crowd of sixth years and saw a sign hanging in the farthest corner of the shop (UNUSUAL TASTES). Ron and Hermione were standing underneath it, examining a tray of blood-flavored lollipops. They sneaked up behind them.

"Ugh, no, Harry won't want one of those, they're for vampires, I expect, James might like it though, you never know…" Hermione was saying in a joking manner.

"How about these?" said Ron, shoving a jar of Cockroach Clusters under Hermione's nose.

"Definitely not," said Harry and James in a perfect impression of the Weasley Twins smirks included.

Ron nearly dropped the jar.

"Who are you two?" Ron asked rudely and Harry and James smirked widely.

"Don't recognize us mate?" They said in unison again and Harry flashed them his scar.

"Harry! James!" Hermione squealed."What are you doing here? How — how did you —?"

"Wow!" said Ron, looking very impressed, "you've learned to Apparate!"

James snorted and slung a hand over Harry's shoulder who was smirking.

"'Course we haven't," said Harry. He dropped his voice so that none of the sixth years could hear him and told them all about the Marauder's Map.

"How come Fred and George never gave it tome!" said Ron, outraged. "I'm their brother!"

"But Harry isn't going to keep it!" said Hermione, as though the idea were ludicrous. "He's going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren't you, Harry?"

James snorted, she was the one with the map, why did they keep saying Harry wasn't going to keep it.

"No, I'm not!" said Harry winking at James who giggled.

"Are you mad?" said Ron, goggling at Hermione. "Hand in something that good?"

"If I hand it in, I'll have to say where I got it! Filch would know Fred and George had nicked it!"

"But what about Sirius Black?" Hermione hissed. "He could be using one of the passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know!"

"He can't be getting in through a passage," said Harry quickly. "There are seven secret tunnels on the map, right? Fred and George reckon Filch already knows about four of them. And of the other three — one of them's caved in, so no one can get through it. One of them's got the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance, so you can't get out of it. And the one we just came through — well — it's really hard to see the entrance to it down in the cellar — so unless he knew it was there —"

Harry hesitated. What if Black did know the passage was there? Ron, however, cleared his throat significantly, and pointed to a notice pasted on the inside of the sweetshop door.

BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

Customers are reminded that until further notice, Dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Sirius Black. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall.

Happy Christmas!

"See?" said Ron quietly. "I'd like to see Black try and break into Honeydukes with Dementors swarming all over the village. Anyway, Hermione, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break-in, wouldn't they? They live over the shop!"

"Yes, but — but —" Heroine seemed to be struggling to find another problem. "Look, Harry still shouldn't be coming into Hogsmeade. He hasn't got a signed form! If anyone finds out, he'll be in so much trouble! And it's not nightfall yet — what if Sirius Black turns up today? Now?"

"He'd have a job spotting Harry in this," said Ron, nodding through the mullioned windows at the thick, swirling snow. "Come on, Hermione, it's Christmas. They deserve a break."

Hermione bit her lip, looking extremely worried.

"Are you going to report us?" James asked her, grinning.

"Oh — of course not — but honestly, James —"

"Seen the Fizzing Whizbees, Harry, James?" said Ron, grabbing them and leading them over to their barrel. "And the Jelly Slugs? And the Acid Pops? Fred gave me one of those when I was seven — it burnt a hole right through my tongue. I remember Mum walloping him with her broomstick." Ron stared broodingly into the Acid Pop box. "Reckon Fred'd take a bite of Cockroach Cluster if I told him they were peanuts?"

When Ron and Hermione had paid for all their sweets, James had gotten a lot of chocolate too; the four of them left Honeydukes for the blizzard outside.

Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.

James shivered; unlike the other two, she and Harry didn't have their cloaks. They headed up the street, heads bowed against the wind, Ron and Hermione shouting through their scarves.

"That's the post office —"

"Zonko's is up there —"

"We could go up to the Shrieking Shack —"

"Tell you what," said Ron, his teeth chattering, "shall we go for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?"

James was more than willing; the wind was fierce and her hands were freezing, so they crossed the road, and in a few minutes were entering the tiny inn.

It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.

"That's Madam Rosmerta," said Ron. "I'll get the drinks, shall I?" he added, going slightly red.

James, Harry, and Hermione made their way to the back of the room, where there was a small, vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, which stood next to the fireplace. Ron came back five minutes later, carrying four foaming tankards of hot butterbeer.

"Happy Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.

James drank deeply. It was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted and seemed to heat every bit of her from the inside. She quickly ate a piece of chocolate as well.

A sudden breeze ruffled her hair. The door of the Three Broomsticks had opened again. James looked over the rim of her tankard and choked. If anyone could tell she and Harry had transfigured hair and eyes it would be them.

Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak — Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.

In an instant, Ron and Hermione had both placed hands on the top of Harry's and James's heads and forced them off their stool and under the table. Dripping with butterbeer and crouching out of sight, James clutched her empty tankard and watched the teachers' and Fudge's feet move toward the bar, pause, then turn and walk right toward them.

Somewhere above them, Hermione whispered, "Mobiliarbus!"

The Christmas tree beside their table rose a few inches off the ground, drifted sideways, and landed with a soft thump right in front of their table, hiding them from view.

Staring through the dense lower branches, James saw four sets of chair legs move back from the table right beside theirs, then heard the grunts and sighs of the teachers and minister as they sat down.

Next she saw another pair of feet, wearing sparkly turquoise high heels, and heard a woman's voice.

"A small gillywater —"

"Mine," said Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Four pints of mulled mead —"

"Ta, Rosmerta," said Hagrid.

"A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella —"

"Mmm!" said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips. James had to admit it sounded good and promptly slapped herself for even thinking about that at a time like this.

"So you'll be the red currant rum, Minister."

"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," said Fudge's voice. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us…"

"Well, thank you very much, Minister."

James watched the glittering heels march away and back again. Her heart was pounding uncomfortably in her throat. Why hadn't it occurred to her that this was the last weekend of term for the teachers too? And how long were they going to sit there? They needed time to sneak back into Honeydukes if they wanted to return to school tonight… Hermione's leg gave a nervous twitch next to Harry.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" came Madam Rosmerta's voice.

James saw the lower part of Fudge's thick body twist in his chair as though he were checking for eavesdroppers. Then he said in a quiet voice, "What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?"

"I did hear a rumor," admitted Madam Rosmerta.

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly.

"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"I'm sure of it," said Fudge shortly.

"You know that the Dementors have searched the whole village twice?" said Madam Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away… It's very bad for business, Minister."

"Rosmerta, dear, I don't like them any more than you do," said Fudge uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution… unfortunate, but there you are… I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore — he won't let them inside the castle grounds."

"I should think not," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"

"Hear, hear!" squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.

"All the same," demurred Fudge, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse…We all know what Black's capable of…"

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought…I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead. I still think you've had too much mead, he came here with his daughter once, too, never saw a prouder father."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"The worst?" said Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do," said Fudge.

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured Professor McGonagall. "Do you remember who his best friend was who his brother-in-law was?"

"Naturally," said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here — ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

James head spun and her heart sped up.

"Precisely," said Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course — exceptionally bright, in fact — but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers —"

"I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money. James is takin aftar 'er father in his pranking way."

"You'd have thought Black and Potter were twins!" chimed in Professor Flitwick. "Inseparable!"

"Of course they were," said Fudge. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends, I mean the man was married to Potter's wife's sister. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily and vice versa. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Potter was named godfather of James for obvious reasons."

"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"Worse even than that, m'dear…" Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. "Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."

"How does that work?" said Madam Rosmerta, breathless with interest. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. James insides had frozen and she wasn't breathing.

"An immensely complex spell," he said squeakily, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find — unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!"

"So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"Naturally," said Professor McGonagall. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself with Violet and James… and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."

"He suspected Black?" gasped Madam Rosmerta.

"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," said Professor McGonagall darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."

"But James Potter insisted on using Black?"

"Of course he did," said Fudge heavily. "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed —"

"Black betrayed them?" breathed Madam Rosmerta. James heart skipped a beat and James felt like she couldn't breath, oh wait she wasn't breathing.

"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death, Violet and James wasn't even in his mind then were they? But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it —"

"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet. James felt hot tears run down her face, how could he? She would rather die than betray Harry, was this trait from her mother then?

"Shh!" said Professor McGonagall.

"I met him!" growled Hagrid. "I musta bin one of teh last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead… an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride with lil James. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!" Hagrid roared. James flinched and she made no move to look at Harry.

"Hagrid, please!" said Professor McGonagall. "Keep your voice down!"

"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! An' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him —' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. 'I won't need it anymore,' he says. Also gave me James, poor wittle thang she was. I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike and James, what was he givin' her and it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace and James would be in the way. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him. But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh? I bet he'd've pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friends' son! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to em anymore…"

A long silence followed Hagrid's story. Then Madam Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, "But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"

"Alas, if only we had," said Fudge bitterly. "It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew —another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself."

"Pettigrew… that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?" said Madam Rosmerta.

"Hero — worshipped Black and Potter, kissed the ground Violet Evan's walked on," said Professor McGonagall. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I — how I regret that now…" She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.

"There, now, Minerva," said Fudge kindly, "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses — Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later — told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens…"

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, "Stupid boy… foolish boy… he was always hopeless at dueling… should have left it to the Ministry…"

"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands — I'd 've ripped him limb — from — limb," Hagrid growled.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," said Fudge sharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I — I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him… a heap of bloodstained robes and a few — a few fragments —a finger."

Fudge's voice stopped abruptly. There was the sound of five noses being blown.

"Well, there you have it, Rosmerta," said Fudge thickly. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since. Harry and James living with Lily and Violet's sister and her husband and son."

Madam Rosmerta let out a long sigh.

"Is it true he's mad, Minister?"

"I wish I could say that he was," said Fudge slowly. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. It was even worse when we told him about Violet and James. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man — cruel… pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them… but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored — asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the Dementors seemed to be having on him — and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door day and night."

"But what do you think he's broken out to do?" said Madam Rosmerta. "Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?"

"I daresay that is his — er — eventual plan, James is his main target it seems, misses his daughter," said Fudge evasively. "But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing… but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again…"

There was a small chink of glass on wood. Someone had set down their glass. James felt her heart skip another beat, why was her father like this?

"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," said Professor McGonagall.

One by one, the pairs of feet in front of James took the weight of their owners once more; hems of cloaks swung into sight, and Madam Rosmerta's glittering heels disappeared behind the bar. The door of the Three Broomsticks opened again, there was another flurry of snow, and the teachers had disappeared.

"Harry? James?"

Ron's and Hermione's faces appeared under the table. They were both staring at them, lost for words. James looked at Harry to his face, a haunted look in his eye's and James she just cried.

"Get away from me…" Harry whispered his eyes hardening as he gazed at James.

"H…Harry-" James tried to say something but Harry wouldn't have it.

"Get. Away. From. Me." Harry bit out viciously and James felt her heart break before she broke into sobs and she dashed out of the three broomsticks and down Honeyduke's cellar. Her mind racing and her heart throbbing painfully, why did Harry do this? Why to her? James sobbed all the way to Gryffindor tower before seeing Fred and George on the couch the two caught her as she came by and held her in a hug as she sobbed. She would tell them later when she would refuse to go down for dinner what she heard and she wouldn't be rejected by the twins who would glare at Harry whenever they saw him.

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So whatcha think? Good, bad, horrible, awe inspiring? Too much? Well review!

KrisxCross out!~~


	11. Chapter 11

Hey you guys, hope you like chapter eleven! Yayness!~

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James had never lasted as long as she had on this fight with Harry. They've ignored each other during the holidays; Hermione trying to talk to her didn't help. Hermione didn't even seem sorry about it, so James just sat near the window and had the house elves bring her food and something to drink. She exchanged letter's with Charlie and the Twins and she felt slightly better. She felt sick to her stomach when she saw her 'father' walking around with Crookshanks. Why? She didn't know, Crookshanks wasn't talking to her. Then Hermione came running up the stairs sobbing, a letter in her fist and she grabbed the front of her Weasley sweater from last year and sobbed into her neck while James read the note that was shoved into her face.

Dear Mr. Hagrid,

Further to our inquiry into the attack by a Hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident. However, we must register our concern about the Hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and this matter will therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April 20th, and we ask you to present yourself and your Hippogriff at the Committee's offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the Hippogriff should be kept tethered and isolated.

Yours in fellowship…

There followed a list of the school governors and James was up her face red and her breathing ragged. Hermione stared at James in shock and watched as the girl started to pace. Her hand going to touch her face once in a while.

"James…?" Hermione trailed off making it sound like a question.

"I need to know what the complaint was about…I have proof that if anyone should be complaining it should be my guardians…if Draco told his father that the hippogriff attacked him…I could possibly get this case blown off…" James stated still pacing then grabbing her shoes and running done passing Harry and Ron on the way. The trio ran after James who was already outside and near the hut, she ran into the hut and the others finally got there to see that she was gasping out orders to Hagrid who immediately followed.

"Ok…Get some parchment…quill…and ink…then write…what…I say..." James trailed off panting and soon catching her breath.

"Now write…Dear governors, I Rubeus Hagrid keeper of the keys at Hogwarts would like a copy of the complaint of one Lucius Malfoy. This is a vital piece that I would like to have to go over, I believe he may have been misinformed and this all maybe a huge misunderstanding. Thank you for your time. Sincerely, Rubeus Hagrid Keeper of the Keys of Hogwarts." James said slowly so Hagrid could write it down. When it was finished James went through it and fixed spelling mistakes and punctuality, then had Hagrid rewrite it. James then put the letter in an envelope and used her choker to put the black family crest as the sealed contents and had him write it out and she ran off to find the best looking Hogwarts owl. Using it she sent it off with a smirk on her face not noticing the way the Trio looked at her. Ron looked at her in shock, Hermione is admiration, and Harry looked at her with grimace. James then left giving Hagrid a smile that he returned.

"When they get teh see teh back off teh letter they won't know what it em'," Hagrid said with glee that they noticed he had not had until James came to the rescue.

"You know it Hagrid, the Black's may only have two actual members left but it's still a very influential name. I got to go and have some of the funds back to ministry though, I'll still need to look up stuff for the trial if Lucius has a good valid reason for the complaint." James said thoughtfully but Hagrid just smiled at her and the four left, James in front with the Trio following her. James spent three days in the library and on fixing her funds to the ministry.

"Here's something… there was a case in 1722… but the Hippogriff was convicted — ugh, look what they did to it, that's disgusting —"

"This might help, look — a Manticore savaged someone in 1296, and they let the Manticore off — oh — no, that was only because everyone was too scared to go near it…"

Meanwhile, in the rest of the castle, the usual magnificent Christmas decorations had been put up, despite the fact that hardly any of the students remained to enjoy them. Thick streamers of holly and mistletoe were strung along the corridors, mysterious lights shone from inside every suit of armor, and the Great Hall was filled with its usual twelve Christmas trees, glittering with golden stars. A powerful and delicious smell of cooking pervaded the corridors, and by Christmas Eve, it had grown so strong that even Scabbers poked his nose out of the shelter of Ron's pocket to sniff hopefully at the air.

On Christmas morning, James was woken by Hermione shaking her shoulder.

"Presents, James!"

James, rubbed her eyes and moved the strands out of her face and look at the end of her bed, where a small heap of parcels had appeared. Hermione was already ripping the paper off her own presents.

"Another sweater from Mrs. Weasley … brown again… see if you've got one."

James had. Mrs. Weasley had sent her a light purple sweater with a silver tree on the front that looked like a weeping willow, also a dozen home-baked mince pies, some Christmas cake, and a box of nut brittle. James found two twig bracelets that had little purple flowers and leaves on it that if she wore it would make her look like a fairy, from the twins. She also got a new quill made of a hippogriff feather from Hagrid and a dragon plushy from Charlie. She did not get anything from the trio, even though she had gotten them gifts…oh well… James followed Hermione to the boys room to see that Ron and Harry were drooling at a firebolt.

"I don't believe it," she said hoarsely.

It was a Firebolt, identical to the dream broom they had gone to see every day in Diagon Alley. Its handle glittered as Harry picked it up. She could see it vibrating and let go; it hung in midair, unsupported, at exactly the right height for Harry to mount it. Her eyes moved from the golden registration number at the top of the handle, right down to the perfectly smooth, streamlined birch twigs that made up the tail.

"Who sent it to you?" said Ron in a hushed voice.

"Look and see if there's a card," said Harry.

Ron ripped apart the Firebolt's wrappings.

"Nothing! Blimey, who'd spend that much on you?"

"Well," said Harry, feeling stunned, "I'm betting it wasn't the Dursleys."

James snorted, and then smiled Harry was wearing the watch she had sent him.

"I bet it was Dumbledore," said Ron, now walking around and around the Firebolt, taking in every glorious inch. "He sent you the Invisibility Cloak anonymously…"

"That was my dad's, though," said Harry. "Dumbledore was just passing it on to me. He wouldn't spend hundreds of Galleons on me. He can't go giving students stuff like this —"

"That's why he wouldn't say it was from him!" said Ron. "In case some git like Malfoy said it was favoritism. Hey, Harry —" Ron gave a great whoop of laughter — "Malfoy! Wait 'til he sees you on this! He'll be sick as a pig! This is an international standard broom, this is!"

"I can't believe this," Harry muttered, running a hand along the Firebolt, while Ron sank onto Harry's bed, laughing his head off at the thought of Malfoy. "Who—?"

"I know," said Ron, controlling himself, "I know who it could've been — Lupin!"

"What?" said James, now starting to laugh herself "Lupin? Listen, if he had this much gold, he'd be able to buy himself some new robes."

"Yeah, but he likes Harry," said Ron. "And he was away when your Nimbus got smashed, and he might've heard about it and decided to visit Diagon Alley and get this for him —"

"What d'you mean, he was away?" said Harry. "He was ill when I was playing in that match."

"Well, he wasn't in the hospital wing," said Ron. "I was there, cleaning out the bedpans on that detention from Snape, remember?"

Harry frowned at Ron while James didn't make eye contact with either of the boys.

"I can't see Lupin affording something like this."

Hermione had just came back from where ever she had run off to, wearing her dressing gown and carrying Crookshanks, who was looking very grumpy, with a string of tinsel tied around his neck. So she had went to find Crookshank's…

"Don't bring him in here!" said Ron, hurriedly snatching Scabbers from the depths of his bed and stowing him in his pajama pocket.

But Hermione wasn't listening. She dropped Crookshanks onto Seamus's empty bed and stared, open-mouthed, at the Firebolt.

"Oh, Harry! Who sent you that?"

"No idea," said Harry. "There wasn't a card or anything with it."

To James horror, Hermione did not appear either excited or intrigued by the news. On the contrary, her face fell, and she bit her lip.

"What's the matter with you?" said Ron.

"I don't know," said Hermione slowly, "but it's a bit odd, isn't it? I mean, this is supposed to be quite a good broom, isn't it?"

Ron sighed exasperatedly.

"It's the best broom there is, Hermione," James said lightly as a pecking noise was heard at the door. Frowning James went for the window while the others continued on.

"So it must've been really expensive…"

"Probably cost more than all the Slytherins' brooms put together," said Ron happily.

"Well… who'd send Harry something as expensive as that, and not even tell him they'd sent it?" said Hermione.

"Who cares?" said Ron impatiently. "Listen, Harry, can I have a go on it? Can I?"

"I don't think anyone should ride that broom just yet!" said Hermione shrilly.

Harry and Ron looked at her. James was looking at her hands where a letter from Gringotts sat, it was addressed to her…

"What d'you think Harry's going to do with it — sweep the floor?" said Ron.

But before Hermione could answer or James could read the letter, Crookshanks sprang from Seamus's bed, right at Ron's chest.

"GET — HIM — OUT — OF — HERE!" Ron bellowed as Crookshanks's claws ripped his pajamas and Scabbers attempted a wild escape over his shoulder. Ron seized Scabbers by the tail and aimed a misjudged kick at Crookshanks that hit the trunk at the end of Harry's bed, knocking it over and causing Ron to hop up and down, howling with pain. Crookshanks's fur suddenly stood on end. A shrill, tinny, whistling was filling the room. The Pocket Sneakoscope had become dislodged from Uncle Vernon's old socks and was whirling and gleaming on the floor.

"I forgot about that!" Harry said, bending down and picking up the Sneakoscope. James put the letter in her pocket walking over. "I never wear those socks if I can help it…"

The Sneakoscope whirled and whistled in his palm. Crookshanks was hissing and spitting at it.

"_Turn that off, It hurts my ears! Momma Hermione!"_ Crookshanks whined and James had to bite her lip of what he called Hermione.

"You'd better take that cat out of here, Hermione," said Ron furiously, sitting on Harry's bed nursing his toe. "Can't you shut that thing up?" he added to Harry as Hermione strode out of the room, Crookshanks's yellow eyes still fixed maliciously on Ron. Harry stuffed the Sneakoscope back inside the socks and threw it back into his trunk. All that could be heard now were Ron's stifled moans of pain and rage. Scabbers was huddled in Ron's hands. It had been a while since Harry had seen him out of Ron's pocket, and he was unpleasantly surprised to see that Scabbers, once so fat, was now very skinny; patches of fur seemed to have fallen out too.

"_He's got that cat looking for me…I'm screwed…So screwed…"_ Scabbers squeaked in a moaning voice that had Ron frowning at him.

"Who's got the cat looking for you Scabbers?" James asked quickly and the boys jumped having forgotten about her.

"_Shit!...I forgot his bloody daughter is a beast speaker…Shit I said that out loud…"_ Scabbers said wincing when he remembered.

"Why is my dad, looking for you Scabbers?" James asked and the others stared at her with frowns.

"_Your dad? I meant Aero…Yeah that fur ball."_ Scabbers squeaked out evasively and James knew he was lying but let it go.

"Alright, I'll talk Aero." James said easily and Scabbers seemed to give out a relieved sigh.

"He's not looking too good, is he?" Harry said.

"It's stress!" said Ron. "He'd be fine if that big stupid furball left him alone!"

But James, remembering what the woman at the Magical Menagerie had said about rats living only three years, couldn't help feeling that unless Scabbers had powers he had never revealed, he was reaching the end of his life. And despite Ron's frequent complaints that Scabbers was both boring and useless, she was sure Ron would be very miserable if Scabbers died. Christmas spirit was definitely thin on the ground in the Gryffindor common room that morning. Hermione had shut Crookshanks in her dormitory, but was furious with Ron for trying to kick him; Ron was still fuming about Crookshanks's fresh attempt to eat Scabbers. Harry gave up trying to make them talk to each other and devoted himself to examining the Firebolt, which he had brought down to the common room with him. For some reason this seemed to annoy Hermione as well; she didn't say anything, but she kept looking darkly at the broom as though it too had been criticizing her cat. James though knew that Hermione thought the broom was bought by Sirius Black and he had given it to Harry to try and kill him.

At lunchtime they went down to the Great Hall, to find that the House tables had been moved against the walls again, and that a single table, set for twelve, stood in the middle of the room. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick were there, along with Filch, the caretaker, who had taken off his usual brown coat and was wearing a very old and rather moldy-looking tailcoat. There were only two other students, two extremely nervous-looking first years.

"Happy Christmas!" said Dumbledore as James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione approached the table. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House tables… Sit down, sit down!"

James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down side by side at the end of the table.

"Crackers!" said Dumbledore enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver noisemaker to Snape, who took it reluctantly and tugged. With a bang like a gunshot, the cracker flew apart to reveal a large, pointed witches hat topped with a stuffed vulture.

James, remembering the Boggart, caught Harry's and Ron's eyes and they all grinned grinned; Snape's mouth thinned and he pushed the hat toward Dumbledore, who swapped it for his wizard's hat at once.

"Dig in!" he advised the table, beaming around.

As James was helping herself to mashed potatoes, the doors of the Great Hall opened again. It was Professor Trelawney, gliding toward them as though on wheels. She had put on a green sequined dress in honor of the occasion, making her look more than ever like a glittering, oversized dragonfly.

"Sybill, this is a pleasant surprise!" said Dumbledore, standing up.

"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster," said Professor Trelawney in her mistiest, most faraway voice, "and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness…"

"Certainly, certainly," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Let me draw you up a chair —" And he did indeed draw a chair in midair with his wand, which revolved for a few seconds before falling with a thud between Professors Snape and McGonagall. Professor Trelawney, however, did not sit down; her enormous eyes had been roving around the table, and she suddenly uttered a kind of soft scream.

"I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"

"We'll risk it, Sybill," said Professor McGonagall impatiently. "Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold."

Professor Trelawney hesitated, then lowered herself into the empty chair, eyes shut and mouth clenched tight, as though expecting a thunderbolt to hit the table. Professor McGonagall poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen.

"Tripe, Sybill?"

Professor Trelawney ignored her. Eyes open again, she looked around once more and said, "But where is dear Professor Lupin?"

"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again," said Dumbledore, indicating that everybody should start serving themselves. "Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day."

"But surely you already knew that, Sybill?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyebrows raised.

Professor Trelawney gave Professor McGonagall a very cold look and James and Professor McGonagall shared a secret smirk.

"Certainly I knew, Minerva," she said quietly. "But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous."

"That explains a great deal," said Professor McGonagall tartly.

Professor Trelawney's voice suddenly became a good deal less misty.

"If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him —"

"Imagine that," said Professor McGonagall dryly.

"I doubt," said Dumbledore, in a cheerful but slightly raised voice, which put an end to Professor McGonagall and Professor Trelawney's conversation, "that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger. Severus, you've made the potion for him again?"

"Yes, Headmaster," said Snape.

"Good," said Dumbledore. "Then he should be up and about in no time… Derek, have you had any of the chipolatas? They're excellent."

The first-year boy went furiously red on being addressed directly by Dumbledore, and took the platter of sausages with trembling hands.

Professor Trelawney behaved almost normally until the very end of Christmas dinner, two hours later. Full to bursting with Christmas dinner and still wearing their cracker hats, James got up first from the table and she shrieked loudly.

"My dear! Oh you poor thing!"

"Huh," said James, looking uneasily at Trelawney.

"I doubt James, is in any danger," said Professor McGonagall coldly, "unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the Entrance Hall."

Even Ron laughed. Professor Trelawney looked highly affronted.

"Coming?" Harry said to Hermione.

"No," Hermione muttered. "I want a quick word with Professor McGonagall."

"Probably trying to see if she can take any more classes," yawned Ron as they make their way into the Entrance Hall, which was completely devoid of mad axe-men.

When they reached the portrait hole they found Sir Cadogan enjoying a Christmas part with a couple of monks, several previous headmasters of Hogwarts and his fat pony. He pushed up his visor toasted them with a flagon of mead.

"Happy — hic — Christmas! Password?"

"Scurvy Cur," said James dismissively.

"And the same to you, bonny lass!" roared Sir Cadogan, as the painting swung forward to admit them.

Harry went straight up to the dormitory, collected his Firebolt and the Broomstick Servicing Kit Hermione had given him for his birthday, brought them downstairs and tried to find something to do with the Firebolt; however, there were no bent twigs to clip, and the handle was so shiny already it seemed pointless to polish it. He and Ron simply sat admiring it from every angle, until the portrait hole opened, and Hermione came in, accompanied by Professor McGonagall. James looked up from reading her letter from Hogwarts which was a withdraw, a lot of galleons 2, 670 galleons to be exact with 7 sickles and 3 knuts.

Though Professor McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor House, James had never seen her in the common room before. The three stared at her, Harry and Ron both holding the Firebolt. Hermione walked around them, sat down next to James, picked up the nearest book and hid her face behind it.

"So that's it, is it?" said Professor McGonagall beadily, walking over to the fireside and staring at the Firebolt. "Miss Granger has just informed me that you have been sent a broomstick, Potter."

James, Harry, and Ron looked around at Hermione. They could see her forehead reddening over the top of her book, which was upside-down.

"May I?" said Professor McGonagall, but she didn't wait for an answer before pulling the Firebolt out of their hands. She examined it carefully from handle to twig-ends. "Hmm. And there was no note at all, Potter? No card? No message of any kind?"

"No," said Harry blankly.

"I see…" said Professor McGonagall. "Well, I'm afraid I will have to take this, Potter."

"W — what?" said Harry, scrambling to his feet. "Why?"

"It will need to be checked for jinxes," said Professor McGonagall. "Of course, I'm no expert, but I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down —"

"Strip it down?" repeated Ron, as though Professor McGonagall was mad.

"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks," said Professor McGonagall. "You will have it back if we are sure it is jinx-free."

"There's nothing wrong with it!" said Harry, his voice shaking slightly. "Honestly, Professor —"

"You can't know that, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, quite kindly, "not until you've flown it, at any rate, and I'm afraid that is out of the question until we are certain that it has not been tampered with. I shall keep you informed."

Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and carried the Firebolt out of the portrait hole, which closed behind her. Harry stood staring after her, the tin of High-Finish Polish still clutched in his hands. Ron, however, rounded on Hermione.

"What did you go running to McGonagall for?"

Hermione threw her book aside. She was still pink in the face, but stood up and faced Ron defiantly.

"Because I thought — and Professor McGonagall agrees with me — that that broom was probably sent to Harry by Sirius Black!" Hermione yelled.

"It wasn't yours to tell her about." Ron yelled back and James finally finished the letter to see the withdraw was to pay for a Firebolt…which would mean that Hermione was right…

"Hermione was right to get McGonagall, read this." James said handing the letter to Ron who had paled at the letter until it finished.

"So you gave Harry-" James cut Ron off before he finished.

"No…I got him that wrist watch…Ron I'm not the only Black…" James said with a frown, Ron and Harry became pale at the thought.

"So Sirius Black…Did by me that Firebolt?" Harry asked gulping slightly.

"Yes, it would seem so…" James said with a sigh and the quartet looked down all thinking about what could have happened to Harry if he had ridden the broom.

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So do you guys like it? No, yes, maybe? Well review my darling readers!~

KrisxCross out!~


	12. Chapter 12

Hey you guys sorry about not updating yesterday, I just had a lot to do that day, so to make it up, I'll be doing a double update =) hope you like it.

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Once term started again James, wasn't the least surprise by Harry's and Ron's coldness to her. She didn't really care anymore, she didn't do anything wrong. Hermione was being ostracized by them too, so she hung out with James who helped her finish her work load and even cast a feather weight charm on her bag so it wasn't too heavy for her. All in all Professor Snape enjoyed tormenting James, by saying you could pick your partners and since there was an uneven number James would make Hermione go with Neville and James would then feel eyes on her but she really didn't care. She did however care when Snape would keep trashing her parents in class, everyone was ready for the show only to see James looking at Snape coldly but she kept her mouth shut. This pissed Snape off but he couldn't do anything about it anyway. Then there was the lessons with Professor Lupin on Dementors on Thursday she really could care less about it, it's not like she was wanted there either, Lupin seemed to not see her a lot.

At eight o'clock on Thursday evening, James left with Harry in silence from the Gryffindor Tower for the History of Magic classroom. It was dark and empty when they arrived, but James lit the lamps with her wand and had waited only five minutes when Professor Lupin turned up, carrying a large packing case, which he heaved onto Professor Binn's desk.

"What's that?" said Harry.

"Another Boggart," said Lupin, stripping off his cloak.

"I've been combing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found this one lurking inside Mr. Filch's filing cabinet. It's the nearest we'll get to a real Dementor. The Boggart will turn into a Dementor when he sees Harry, so we'll be able to practice on him. I can store him in my office when we're not using him; there's a cupboard under my desk he'll like."

"Okay," said Harry, trying to sound as though he wasn't apprehensive at all and merely glad that Lupin had found such a good substitute for a real Dementor. James just frowned and nodded slightly.

"So…" Professor Lupin had taken out his own wand, and indicated that they should do the same. "The spell I am going to try and teach you both is highly advanced magic — well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm."

"How does it work?" asked James with a tilt of her head and she was shocked when Lupin answered.

"Well, when it works correctly, It conjures up a Patronus," said Lupin, "which is a kind of anti-Dementor — a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the Dementor."

James had a sudden vision of herself behind a pissed off Dumbledore with his wand at the ready.

Professor Lupin continued, "The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the Dementor feeds upon — hope, happiness, the desire to survive — but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the Dementors can't hurt it. But I must warn you both that the charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it."

"What does a Patronus look like?" asked Harry curiously.

"Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it."

"And how do you conjure it?" James questioned already getting into a mind frame to learn.

"With an incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory."

James cast her mind about for a happy memory. Certainly, nothing that had happened to her at the Dursleys' was going to do. Finally, she remembered the memory/dream of her father and mother…she had felt warm and safe, it was a very happy memory to her.

"Right," he said, trying to recall as exactly as possible the wonderful, soaring sensation of his stomach.

"The incantation is this —" Lupin cleared his throat. "Expecto patronum!"

"Expecto patronum," They repeated under their breath, "expecto patronum."

"Concentrating hard on your happy memory?"

"Oh — yeah —" said Harry, quickly forcing his thoughts back to that first broom ride. "Expecto patrono — no, patronum — sorry — expecto patronum, expecto patronum"

Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of Harry's wand; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas. James finally put the intent and thought of the memory she whispered the incantation and glob of silvery gas came out of her wand, it was moving a lot as if switching forms.

"Did you see that?" said Harry excitedly, he looked a bit put off by James's almost success. "Something happened!"

"Very good," said Lupin, smiling. "Right, then — ready to try it on a Dementor?"

"Yes," Harry said, gripping his wand very tightly, and moving into the middle of the deserted classroom. He tried to keep his mind on flying, but something else kept intruding… Any second now, he might hear his mother again… but he shouldn't think that, or he would hear her again, and he didn't want to… or did he?

Lupin grasped the lid of the packing case and pulled.

A Dementor rose slowly from the box, its hooded face turned toward Harry, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. The lamps around the classroom flickered and went out. The Dementor stepped from the box and started to sweep silently toward Harry, drawing a deep, rattling breath. A wave of piercing cold broke over him —

"Expecto patronum!" Harry yelled. "Expecto patronum! Expecto —"

James watched as Harry fell and she quickly cast the spell and watched as it took the shape of a fox, it bared its teeth at the Dementor before charging at it and the Boggart sprung back into the trunk, she didn't notice the shock look on Lupin's face as she kneeled next to Harry with a worried look on her face.

"Harry!" James exclaimed slapping his face lightly.

Harry jerked back to life. He was lying flat on his back on the floor. The classroom lamps were alight again. He didn't have to ask what had happened. He looked into James navy colored eyes and Harry was shocked by the worry he saw mixed in with loneliness, sadness, swirled together with familial love.

"Sorry," he muttered, sitting up and feeling cold sweat trickling down behind his glasses.

"Are you all right?" James asked with a frown on her face.

"Yes…" Harry pulled himself up on one of the desks and leaned against it.

"Here —" Lupin handed him a Chocolate Frog. "Eat this before we try again. I didn't expect you to do it your first time; in fact, I would have been astounded if you had. Which I have to say James, I am astounded you could pull it off! On your first try against it! My word, a fox, as it's form too…"

"It's getting worse," Harry muttered, biting off the Frog's head and looking at James with pride. "I could hear her louder that time — and him — Voldemort —"

Lupin looked paler than usual and James just squeezed his hand in comfort. Harry still couldn't stand to see her, but she was his cousin and that was all that mattered right then.

"Harry, if you don't want to continue, I will more than understand —"

"I do!" said Harry fiercely, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog into his mouth. "I've got to! What if the Dementors turn up at our match against Ravenclaw? I can't afford to fall off again. If we lose this game we've lost the Quidditch Cup!"

"All right then…" said Lupin. "You might want to select another memory, a happy memory, I mean, to concentrate on… That one doesn't seem to have been strong enough…"

James frowned before grabbing Harry's hand.

"It doesn't have to be real…Harry…you just have to feel the emotions…" James offered and Harry looked at her and his eyes lit up in recognition and then nodded at her.

"Ready?" said Lupin, gripping the box lid.

"Ready," said Harry his eyes set in determination.

"Go!" said Lupin, pulling off the lid. The room went icily cold and dark once more. The Dementor glided forward, drawing its breath; one rotting hand was extending toward Harry —

"Expecto patronum!" Harry yelled. "Expecto patronum! Expecto Pat —"

Harry then started to sway, and James quickly cast the charm again before catching him as he fell.

"Harry! Harry… wake up…" James said shaking him lightly and Lupin came up behind her.

Lupin was tapping Harry hard on the face. This time it was a minute before Harry understood why he was lying on a dusty classroom floor.

"I heard my dad," Harry mumbled. "That's the first time I've ever heard him — he tried to take on Voldemort himself, to give my mum time to run for it…"

Harry suddenly realized that there were tears on his face mingling with the sweat. He bent his face as low as possible, wiping them off on his robes, pretending to do up his shoelace, so that Lupin wouldn't see.

"You heard James?" said Lupin in a strange voice. James head snapped up to look at Lupin her eyes narrowed.

"Yeah…" Face dry, Harry looked up. "Why — you didn't know my dad, did you?"

"I — I did, as a matter of fact," said Lupin. "We were friends at Hogwarts. Listen, Harry — perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced… I shouldn't have suggested putting you through this…"

"No!" said Harry. He got up again. "I'll have one more go! I'm not thinking of happy enough things, that's what it is… hang on…"

"The mirror of erised…" James whispered and Harry looked at James in alarm before it hit him, the first time he saw his family…

"Ready?" said Lupin, who looked as though he were doing this against his better judgment.

"Concentrating hard? All right — go!"

He pulled off the lid of the case for the third time, and the Dementor rose out of it; the room fell cold and dark —

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry bellowed. "EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

The screaming inside Harry's head had started again — except this time, it sounded as though it were coming from a badly tuned radio — softer and louder and softer again… and he could still see the Dementor… it had halted… and then a huge, silver shadow came bursting out of the end of Harry's wand in the shape of a stag, to hover between him and the Dementor, and though Harry's legs felt like water, he was still on his feet — though for how much longer, he wasn't sure…

"Riddikulus!" roared Lupin, springing forward.

There was a loud crack, and Harry's cloudy stag Patronus vanished along with the Dementor; he sank into a chair, feeling as exhausted as if he'd just run a mile, and felt his legs shaking. James sat on the arm of it with a smile. Out of the corner of her eye, he saw Professor Lupin forcing the Boggart back into the packing case with his wand; it had turned into a silvery orb again.

"Excellent!" Lupin said, striding over to where Harry sat. "Excellent, Harry! James! To get to those levels as beginners at the charm is unheard of."

"Can we have another go? Just one more go?"

"Not now," said Lupin firmly. "You've both had enough for one night. Here —"

He handed Harry and James two large bar of Honeydukes' best chocolate.

"Eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood. Same time next week?"

"Okay," said Harry. He took a bite of the chocolate and watched Lupin extinguishing the lamps that had rekindled with the disappearance of the Dementor. James ate her chocolate savoring the flavor and Lupin seemed to have a smirk at that. A thought had just occurred to him.

"Professor Lupin?" he said. "If you knew my dad, you must've known Sirius Black as well."

Lupin turned very quickly and James chocked on the piece she was melting in her mouth.

"What gives you that idea?" he said sharply.

"Nothing — I mean, I just knew they were friends at Hogwarts too…"

Lupin's face relaxed.

"Yes, I knew him," he said shortly. "Or I thought I did. You'd better be off, Harry…James, it's getting late."

They both left the classroom, walking along the corridor and around a corner, then took a detour behind a suit of armor and sank down on its plinth to finish their chocolate, wishing Harry hadn't mentioned Black, as Lupin was obviously not keen on the subject. Then James's thoughts wandered back to her Patronus form…a fox. She quickly got up and left Harry with a slight wave he didn't return and entered Myrtle's bathroom. There on a toilet was a potion that James smiled at. The potion was silver in color, it was ready to drink, but should she take it now? It was illegal, but it would be worth it James decided scooping up a vial. She drank it very quickly because the drink tasted disgusting like how a dung bomb smells and then James saw the room start to spin. Her bones cracked and her skin shifted and it was so painful like her bones breaking and her skin shredding and then it was over and James was on the floor. Did it work, she wondered before trying to get up and then tripping over her white paw…? James let out a bark on excitement and then ran around the room getting used to the form before changing back, James stumbled a bit before cleaning up her potion and the mess but she was so happy! She had did it, she was an animagus. A fox to be exact, she was so happy! She could sing and when she ran from the room she didn't care for the glares she received she had to tell someone, she was going to tell Hermione the news, and maybe persuade her to go through with it too. Hermione had squealed and scolded her but she said that she may take the potion too, but not now so after a hug they went downstairs and James was shocked to find her senses were ten times better than before.

Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly. According to Wood, this was good news for Gryffindor, who would take second place if they beat Ravenclaw too. He therefore increased the number of team practices to five a week. This meant that with Lupin's anti-Dementor classes, which in themselves were more draining than six Quidditch practices, James had just one night a week to do all her homework with Hermione.

Even so, she was not showing the strain nearly as much as Hermione, whose immense workload finally seemed to be getting to her. Every night, without fail, Hermione was to be seen in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes; she barely spoke to anybody and snapped when she was interrupted unless it was James because the girl would end up helping her with the work load.

"How's she doing it?" Ron muttered to them one evening as Harry sat finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Snape and James was twirling her wand trying to cast a warming charm. They looked up. Hermione was barely visible behind a tottering pile of books.

"Getting to all her classes!" Ron said. "I heard her talking to Professor Vector, that Arithmancy witch, this morning. They were going on about yesterday's lesson, but Hermione can't've been there, because she was with us in Care of Magical Creatures! And Ernie McMillan told me she's never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and she's never missed one of them either! The other half is during Ancient Runes and James can tell you she was there for them too!"

James didn't have time to fathom the mystery of Hermione's impossible schedule at the moment; she really needed to get the charm right, or she would get a failing grade in Charms. Two seconds later, however, they were interrupted again, this time by Wood.

"Bad news, Harry. I've just been to see Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt. She — er — got a bit shirty with me. Told me I'd got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about you staying alive. Just because I told her I didn't care if it threw you off, as long as you caught the Snitch first."

James snorted and raised an eyebrow at him.

Wood shook his head in disbelief. "Honestly, the way she was yelling at me… you'd think I'd said something terrible. Then I asked her how much longer she was going to keep it…" He screwed up his

face and imitated Professor McGonagall's severe voice. "As long as necessary, Wood"… I reckon it's time you ordered a new broom, Harry. There's an order form at the back of Which Broomstick… you could get a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, like we all got."

"I think I'll wait for the firebolt," said Harry flatly.

January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Ravenclaw was drawing nearer and nearer, but Harry still hadn't ordered a new broom. He was now asking Professor McGonagall for news of the Firebolt after every Transfiguration lesson, Ron standing hopefully at his shoulder, Hermione rushing past with her face averted James trailing after her.

"No, Potter, you can't have it back yet," Professor McGonagall told him the twelfth time this happened, before he'd even opened his mouth. "We've checked for most of the usual curses, but Professor Flitwick believes the broom might be carrying a Hurling Hex. I shall tell you once we've finished checking it. Now, please stop badgering me."

To make matters better, Harry's and James's anti-Dementor lessons were going nearly as well as they had hoped. Several sessions on, they were able to produce their forms easily; a fox and a stag every other time the Boggart-Dementor approached them. Professor Lupin was stunned and yet happy for them both.

"I thought a Patronus would — charge the Dementors down or something," said Harry dispiritedly once. "Make them disappear —"

"The true Patronus does do that," said Lupin. "But you've achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the Dementors put in an appearance at your next Quidditch match, you will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground."

"You said it's harder if there are loads of them," said James.

"I have complete confidence in you both," said Lupin, smiling.

"Here — you've earned a drink. Something from the Three Broomsticks. You won't have tried it before —"

He pulled three bottles out of his briefcase.

"Butterbeer!" said Harry, without thinking. "Yeah, I like that stuff!"

Lupin raised an eyebrow.

"We got the stuff when we were staying at the leaky cauldron," James lied quickly.

"I see," said Lupin, though he still looked slightly suspicious.

"Well — let's drink to a Gryffindor victory against Ravenclaw! Not that I'm supposed to take sides, as a teacher…" he added hastily.

They drank the butterbeer in silence, until Harry voiced something he'd been wondering for a while.

"What's under a Dementor's hood?"

Professor Lupin lowered his bottle thoughtfully and James shuddered imagining things.

"Hmmm… well, the only people who really know are in no condition to tell us. You see, the Dementor lowers its hood only to use its last and worst weapon."

"What's that?"

"They call it the Dementor's Kiss," said Lupin, with a slightly twisted smile. "It's what Dementors do to those they wish to destroy utterly. I suppose there must be some kind of mouth under there, because they clamp their jaws upon the mouth of the victim and — and suck out his soul."

James spat out a bit of butterbeer.

"What — they kill —?"

"Oh no," said Lupin. "Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no… anything. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever… lost."

Lupin drank a little more butterbeer, then said,

"It's the fate that awaits Sirius Black. It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Ministry have given the Dementors permission to perform it if they find him."

James sat stunned for a moment at the idea of someone having their soul sucked out through their mouth. But then she thought of her father.

"He deserves it," Harry spat angrily and James flinched violently.

"No one deserves that." James said with a scowl that Harry didn't question her for it.

"You think so?" said Lupin lightly. "Do you really think anyone deserves that?"

"Yes," said Harry defiantly. "For… for some things…"

"I think the only one would be Voldemort, not anyone else." James hissed at Harry who ignored her and Lupin flinched slightly at the name.

James could tell Harry would have liked to have told Lupin about the conversation they'd overheard about Black in the Three Broomsticks, about Black betraying his mother and father, but it would have involved revealing that he'd gone to Hogsmeade without permission, and he knew Lupin wouldn't be very impressed by that. So they finished his butterbeer, thanked Lupin, and left the History of Magic classroom.

James wished that Harry hadn't asked what was under a Dementor's hood, the answer had been so horrible, and she was so lost in unpleasant thoughts of what it would feel like to have your soul sucked out of you that when Harry walked headlong into Professor McGonagall halfway up the stairs, she didn't even laugh.

"Do watch where you're going, Potter!"

"Sorry, Professor —"

"I've just been looking for you in the Gryffindor common room, Well, here it is, we've done everything we could think of, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it at all — you've got a very good friend somewhere, Potter…"

Harry's jaw dropped. She was holding out his Firebolt, and it looked as magnificent as ever.

"I can have it back?" Harry said weakly. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," said Professor McGonagall, and she was actually smiling. "I daresay you'll need to get the feel of it before Saturday's match, won't you? And Potter —do try and win, won't you? Or we'll be out of the running for the eighth year in a row, as Professor Snape was kind enough to remind me only last night…"

Speechless, Harry carried the Firebolt back upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower with James trailing after. As they turned a corner, they saw Ron dashing towards them, grinning from ear to ear.

"She gave it to you? Excellent! Listen, can I still have a go on it? Tomorrow?"

"Yeah… anything…" said Harry, his heart lighter than it had been in a month. "You know what — we should make up with Hermione… She was only trying to help…"

James glared her anger getting the better of her, but she didn't say a word. Where was her apology?

"Yeah, all right," said Ron. "She's in the common room now working — for a change."

They turned into the corridor to Gryffindor Tower and saw Neville Longbottom, pleading with Sir Cadogan, who seemed to be refusing him entrance.

"I wrote them down!" Neville was saying tearfully. "But I must've dropped them somewhere!"

"A likely tale!" roared Sir Cadogan. Then, spotting James, Harry, and Ron: "Good even, my fine young yeomen and Bonny Lass! Come clap this loon in irons. He is trying to force entry to the chambers within!"

"Oh, shut up," said Ron as he, James, and Harry drew level with Neville.

"I've lost the passwords!" Neville told them miserably. "I made him tell me what passwords he was going to use this week, because he keeps changing them, and now I don't know what I've done with them!"

"Oddsbodkins," said James to Sir Cadogan, who looked at her before winking swung forward to let them into the common room. There was a sudden, excited murmur as every head turned and the next moment, Harry was surrounded by people exclaiming over his Firebolt.

"Where'd you get it, Harry?"

"Will you let me have a go?"

"Have you ridden it yet, Harry?"

"Ravenclaw'll have no chance, they're all on Cleansweep Sevens!"

"Can I just hold it, Harry?"

After ten minutes or so, during which the Firebolt was Passed around and admired from every angle, the crowd dispersed and Harry and Ron had a clear view of Hermione and James, the only people who hadn't rushed over to them, bent over Hermione's work and carefully avoiding their eyes. Harry and Ron approached her table and at last, they looked up.

"I got it back," said Harry, grinning at her and holding up the Firebolt.

"See, Hermione? There wasn't anything wrong with it!" said Ron.

"Well — there might have been!" said Hermione. "I mean, at least you know now that it's safe!"

"She has a point, someone got it from the Black account and I know it wasn't me." James said with a glare.

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Harry. "I'd better put it upstairs."

"I'll take it!" said Ron eagerly. "I've got to give Scabbers his rat tonic."

He took the Firebolt and, holding it as if it were made of glass, carried it away up the boys' staircase.

"Can I sit down, then?" Harry asked Hermione ignoring James who glared at him.

"I suppose so," said Hermione, moving a great stack of parchment off a chair.

Harry looked around at the cluttered table, at the long Arithmancy essay on which the ink was still glistening, at the even longer Muggle Studies essay ('Explain Why Muggles Need Electricity') and at the rune translation Hermione was now poring over and James had corrected a few.

"How are you getting through all this stuff?" Harry asked her.

"Oh, well — you know — working hard and James helps too," said Hermione. Close-up, Harry saw that she looked almost as tired as Lupin.

"Why don't you just drop a couple of subjects?" Harry asked, watching her lifting books as she searched for her rune dictionary.

"I couldn't do that!" said Hermione, looking scandalized.

"Arithmancy looks terrible," said Harry, picking up a very complicated-looking number chart.

"Oh no, it's wonderful!" said Hermione earnestly. "It's my favorite subject! It's —"

But exactly what was wonderful about Arithmancy, James never found out. At that precise moment, a strangled yell echoed down the boys' staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring, petrified, at the entrance. Then came hurried footsteps, growing louder and louder — and then Ron came leaping into view, dragging with him a bedsheet..

"LOOK!" he bellowed, striding over to Hermione's table. "LOOK!" he yelled, shaking the sheets in her face.

"Ron, what —?"

"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"

Hermione was leaning away from Ron, looking utterly bewildered. James looked down at the sheet Ron was holding. There was something red on it. Something that looked horribly like —

"BLOOD!" Ron yelled into the stunned silence. "HE'S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?"

"N — no," said Hermione in a trembling voice.

Ron threw something down onto Hermione's rune translation. Hermione, James, and Harry leaned forward. Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, ginger cat hairs.

00-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-00-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-00-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-00-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-00-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-00-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-00

SO did you like it love it hate it? Well how about you review it? Huh?

KrisxCross out!~


	13. Chapter 13

Here is chapter 13! Yayness, now read! =)

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0—00-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-00—0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It looked like the end of Ron and Hermione's friendship.

Each was so angry with the other that James couldn't see how they'd ever make up. Ron was enraged that Hermione had never taken Crookshanks's attempts to eat Scabbers seriously, hadn't bothered to keep a close enough watch on him, and was still trying to pretend that Crookshanks was innocent by suggesting that Ron look for Scabbers under all the boys' beds. Hermione, meanwhile, maintained fiercely that Ron had no proof that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, that the ginger hairs might have been there since Christmas, and that Ron had been prejudiced against her cat ever since Crookshanks had landed on Ron's head in the Magical Menagerie. Personally, James was sure that Crookshanks had not eaten Scabbers, and when she tried to point out to Ron that Crookshanks had said he didn't do it, Ron had lost his temper with here too.

"Okay, side with Hermione, I knew you would!" he said hatefully. "First the Firebolt, now Scabbers, Just mind your own business! Just leave me alone, James, let's go Harry."

Ron had taken the loss of his rat very hard indeed and James hadn't spoken to anyone since he yelled at her. She even stopped going to Lupin's lessons and no teacher called on her anyways.

"Come on, Ron, you were always saying how boring Scabbers was," said Fred bracingly. "And he's been off-color for ages, he was wasting away. It was probably better for him to snuff it quickly — one swallow — he probably didn't feel a thing."

"Fred!" said Ginny indignantly.

"All he did was eat and sleep, Ron, you said it yourself," said George.

"He bit Goyle for us once!" Ron said miserably. "Remember, Harry? James?"

"Yeah, that's true," said Harry. James just glared at him and went back to drawing Fred and George who were posed in front of her.

"His finest hour," said Fred, unable to keep a straight face. "Let the scar on Goyle's finger stand as a lasting tribute to his memory. Oh, come on, Ron, get yourself down to Hogsmeade and buy a new rat, what's the point of moaning?"

In a last-ditch attempt to cheer Ron up, Harry persuaded him to come along to the Gryffindor team's final practice before the Ravenclaw match, so that he could have a ride on the Firebolt after they'd finished. This did seem to take Ron's mind off Scabbers for a moment ("Great! Can I try and shoot a few goals on it?") so they set off for the Quidditch field together. James followed her hair up in a ponytail and her face hard.

Madam Hooch, who was still overseeing Gryffindor practices to keep an eye on Harry, was just as impressed with the Firebolt as everyone else had been. She took it in her hands before takeoff and gave them the benefit of her professional opinion.

"Look at the balance on it! If the Nimbus series has a fault, it's a slight list to the tail end — you often find they develop a drag after a few years. They've updated the handle too, a bit slimmer than the Cleansweeps, reminds me of the old Silver Arrows — a pity they've stopped making them. I learned to fly on one, and a very fine old broom it was too…"

She continued in this vein for some time, until Wood said, "Er — Madam Hooch? Is it okay if Harry has the Firebolt back? We need to practice…"

"Oh — right — here you are, then, Potter," said Madam Hooch. "I'll sit over here with Weasley…"

She and Ron left the field to sit in the stadium, and the Gryffindor team gathered around Wood for his final instructions for tomorrow's match.

"Harry, I've just found out who Ravenclaw is playing as Seeker. It's Cho Chang. She's a fourth year, and she's pretty good… I really hoped she wouldn't be fit, she's had some problems with injuries…" Wood scowled his displeasure that Cho Chang had made a full recovery, then said, "On the other hand, she rides a Comet Two Sixty, which is going to look like a joke next to the Firebolt." He gave Harry's broom a look of fervent admiration, then said, "Okay, everyone, let's go —"

And at long last, James mounted her Nimbus, and kicked off from the ground. James watched as Harry began to showoff.

Harry turned it so sharply that Alicia Spinnet screamed, then he went into a perfectly controlled dive, brushing the grassy field with his toes before rising thirty, forty, fifty feet into the air again —

"Harry, I'm letting the Snitch out!" Wood called and James caught the Quaffle and then threw to Katie.

Harry turned and raced a Bludger toward the goal posts; he outstripped it easily, saw the Snitch dart out from behind Wood, and within ten seconds had caught it tightly in his hand. The team cheered madly. Harry let the Snitch go again, gave it a minute's head start, then tore after it, weaving in and out of the others; he spotted it lurking near Katie Bell's knee, looped her easily, and caught it again. James seemed to be the only one who cared to practice so she threw the Quaffle at Alicia, who missed it and blushed when Oliver yelled at her.

It was the best practice ever; the team, inspired by the presence of the Firebolt in their midst, performed their best moves faultlessly, and by the time they hit the ground again, Wood only had one criticism to make, which, as George Weasley pointed out, was a first.

"I can't see what's going to stop us tomorrow!" said Wood. "Not unless — Harry, you've sorted out your Dementor problem, haven't you?"

"Yeah," said Harry.

"The Dementors won't turn up again, Oliver. Dumbledore'd go ballistic," said Fred confidently, his arm around James shoulders.

"Well, let's hope not," said Wood. "Anyway — good work, everyone. Let's get back to the tower… turn in early…"

"I'm staying out for a bit; Ron wants a go on the Firebolt," Harry told Wood, and while the rest of the team headed off to the locker rooms, Harry strode over to Ron, who vaulted the barrier to the stands and came to meet him. Madam Hooch had fallen asleep in her seat.

"Here you go," said Harry, handing Ron the Firebolt.

Ron, an expression of ecstasy on his face, mounted the broom and zoomed off into the gathering darkness while Harry walked around the edge of the field, watching him. James had stayed to make sure they would be okay.

Night had fallen before Madam Hooch awoke with a start, told James, Harry, and Ron off for not waking her, and insisted that they go back to the castle.

Harry shouldered the Firebolt and he and Ron walked out of the shadowy stadium, discussing the Firebolt's superbly smooth action, its phenomenal acceleration, and its pinpoint turning. They were halfway toward the castle when James, glancing to her left, saw something that made her heart turn over — a pair of eyes, gleaming out of the darkness.

James stopped dead, her heart banging against her ribs. Could it be…?

"What's the matter?" said Ron.

James pointed. Ron pulled out his wand and muttered, "Lumos!"

A beam of light fell across the grass, hit the bottom of a tree, and illuminated its branches; there, crouching among the budding leaves, was Crookshanks.

"Get out of here!" Ron roared, and he stooped down and seized a stone lying on the grass, but before he could do anything else, Crookshanks had vanished with one swish of his long ginger tail.

"See?" Ron said furiously, chucking the stone down again. "She's still letting him wander about wherever he wants — probably washing down Scabbers with a couple of birds now…"

James didn't say anything. She took a deep breath as relief seeped through her; she had been sure for a moment that those eyes had belonged to her father. They set off for the castle once more, slightly ashamed of her moment of panic, James didn't say anything to the boys — nor did she look left or right until they had reached the well-lit entrance hall.

Harry went down to breakfast the next morning with the rest of the boys in his dormitory, all of whom seemed to think the Firebolt deserved a sort of guard of honor. James just walked behind them with a sleepy look on her face.

As Harry entered the Great Hall, heads turned in the direction of the Firebolt, and there was a good deal of excited muttering. James saw, with enormous satisfaction, that the Slytherin team were all looking thunderstruck.

"Did you see his face?" said Ron gleefully, looking back at Malfoy. "He can't believe it! This is brilliant!"

Wood, too, was basking in the reflected glory of the Firebolt.

"Put it here, Harry," he said, laying the broom in the middle of the table and carefully turning it so that its name faced upward. People from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were soon coming over to look. Cedric Diggory came over to congratulate Harry on having acquired such a superb replacement for his Nimbus, and Percy's Ravenclaw girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater, asked if she could actually hold the Firebolt.

"Now, now, Penny, no sabotage!" said Percy heartily as she examined the Firebolt closely. "Penelope and I have got a bet on," he told the team. "Ten Galleons on the outcome of the match!"

Penelope put the Firebolt down again, thanked Harry, and went back to her table.

"Harry — make sure you win," said Percy, in an urgent whisper. "I haven't got ten Galleons. Yes, I'm coming, Penny!" And he bustled off to join her in a piece of toast.

"Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?" said a cold, drawling voice.

Draco Malfoy had arrived for a closer look, Crabbe and Goyle right behind him and James shuddered why did they have to stand on either side of her?

"Yeah, reckon so," said Harry casually.

"Got plenty of special features, hasn't it?" said Malfoy, eyes glittering maliciously. "Shame it doesn't come with a parachute — in case you get too near a Dementor."

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered and James smacked them because they touched her.

"Pity you can't attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy," said Harry. "Then it could catch the Snitch for you."

The Gryffindor team laughed loudly. Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed, and he stalked away. They watched him rejoin the rest of the Slytherin team, who put their heads together, no doubt asking Malfoy whether Harry's broom really was a Firebolt.

At a quarter to eleven, the Gryffindor team set off for the locker rooms. The weather couldn't have been more different from their match against Hufflepuff. It was a clear, cool day with a very light breeze; there would be no visibility problems this time, and James, though nervous, was starting to feel the excitement only a Quidditch match could bring. They could hear the rest of the school moving into the stadium beyond. James took off her black school robes, removed her wand from her pocket, and stuck it inside her bra; she only hoped she wouldn't need it.

She wondered suddenly whether Professor Lupin was in the crowd, watching.

"You know what we've got to do," said Wood as they prepared to leave the locker rooms. "If we lose this match, we're out of the running, just — just fly like you did in practice yesterday, and we'll be okay!"

They walked out onto the field to tumultuous applause. The Ravenclaw team, dressed in blue, were already standing in the middle of the field. Their Seeker, Cho Chang, was the only girl on their team. She was shorter than Harry by about a head. She smiled at Harry as the teams faced each other behind their captains. James noticed and she hid a smirk, looks like someone has a crush…her mind then wandered off to a certain Weasley that worked with dragons…

"Wood, Davies, shake hands," Madam Hooch said briskly, and Wood shook hands with the Ravenclaw Captain.

"Mount your brooms… on my whistle… three — two — one —"

James kicked off and caught the ball before Davies and threw it to Katie, listening all the while to the commentary, which was being provided by the Weasley twins' friend Lee Jordan.

"They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt that Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship —"

"Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?" interrupted Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Right you are, Professor — just giving a bit of background information — the Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and —"

"Jordan!"

"Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor, heading for goal…"

James was flying closer to Davies as was Woods plan.

"Show her your acceleration, Harry!" Fred yelled as he whooshed past in pursuit of a Bludger that was aiming for Alicia and James quickly intercepted the Quaffle and fainted to throw it in to the left goal but put it through the middle easily. James barely caught Harry almost catch the snitch before dodging a buldger.

There was a great "Ooooooh" of disappointment from the Gryffindor supporters, but much applause for their Beater from the Ravenclaw end. George Weasley vented his feelings by hitting the second Bludger directly at the offending Beater, who was forced to roll right over in midair to avoid it.

"Gryffindor leads by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter's really putting it through its paces now, see it turn — Chang's Comet is just no match for it, the Firebolt's precision — balance is really noticeable in these long —"

"JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"

Ravenclaw was pulling back; they had now scored three goals, which put Gryffindor only fifty points ahead — James quickly started to put the Quaffle away into the goals because Katie and Alicia were just flying around watching Harry.

"HARRY, THIS IS NO TIME TO BE A GENTLEMAN!" Wood roared as Harry swerved to avoid a collision. "KNOCK HER OFF HER BROOM IF YOU HAVE TO!"

James was so shocked she didn't notice the buldger until George appeared out of nowhere smacking it back at the offending beater. James got three more goals in and Wood looked like her could kiss her.

"James Black's second game and she putting that Quaffle away, very hot third year too. She is single by the way…" Jordan was cut off by McGonagall who screamed something but James was already blushing brightly.

"Oh!" screamed Cho, pointing.

Distracted, James looked down.

Three Dementors, three tall, black, hooded Dementors, were looking up at her.

She didn't stop to think, Harry wasn't even paying attention to them. Plunging a hand down the neck of her robes, she whipped out her wand and roared, "Expecto patronum!"

Her fox ran through the air and charged them.

She knew it had shot directly at the Dementors but didn't pause to watch; her mind still miraculously clear, She watched as Harry caught the snitch.

Madam Hooch's whistle sounded. Harry turned around in midair and saw six scarlet blurs bearing down on him; next moment, the whole team was hugging him so hard he was nearly pulled off his broom. Down below he could hear the roars of the Gryffindors in the crowd.

"That's my boy!" Wood kept yelling. Alicia and Katie had all kissed Harry; Fred had him in a grip so tight Harry felt as though his head would come off. In complete disarray, the team managed to make its way back to the ground. Harry got off his broom and looked up to see a gaggle of Gryffindor supporters sprinting onto the field, Ron in the lead. Before he knew it, he had been engulfed by the cheering crowd.

"Yes!" Ron yelled, yanking Harry's arm into the air. "Yes! Yes!"

"Well done, Harry!" said Percy, looking delighted. "Ten Galleons to me! Must find Penelope, excuse me —"

"Good for you, Harry! James you were awesome out there!" roared Seamus Finnigan.

"Ruddy brilliant!" boomed Hagrid over the heads of the milling Gryffindors.

"That was quite some Patronus," said a voice in James's ear.

James turned around to see Professor Lupin, who looked both shaken and pleased.

"The Dementors didn't affect me at all!" Harry said excitedly. "I didn't feel a thing!"

"That would be because they — er — weren't Dementors," said Professor Lupin. "Come and see —"

He led Harry and James out of the crowd until they were able to see the edge of the field.

"You gave Mr. Malfoy quite a fright," said Lupin.

James stared. Lying in a crumpled heap on the ground were Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin team Captain, all struggling to remove themselves from long, black, hooded robes. It looked as though Malfoy had been standing on Goyle's shoulders. Standing over them, with an expression of the utmost fury on her face, was Professor McGonagall.

"An unworthy trick!" she was shouting. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!"

If anything could have set the seal on Gryffindor's victory, it was this. Ron, who had fought his way through to Harry's and James's side, doubled up with laughter as they watched Malfoy fighting to extricate himself from the robe, Goyle's head still stuck inside it.

"Come on, James!" said George, fighting his way over. "Party! Gryffindor common room, now!"

"Right," said James, and feeling happier than she had in ages, she and the rest of the team led the way, still in their scarlet robes, out of the stadium and back up to the castle.

It felt as though they had already won the Quidditch Cup; the party went on all day and well into the night. Fred and George Weasley disappeared for a couple of hours and returned with armfuls of bottles of butterbeer, pumpkin fizz, and several bags full of Honeydukes sweets.

"How did you do that?" squealed Alicia Spinnet as George started throwing Peppermint Toads into the crowd.

"With a little help from Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," Fred muttered in James's ear and she felt her stomach do a summersault like it usually did when Charlie wrote to her. She didn't like Fred…did she?

Only one person wasn't joining in the festivities. Hermione, incredibly, was sitting in a corner, attempting to read an enormous book entitled Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles. James broke away from the table where Fred and George had started juggling butterbeer bottles and went over to her.

"Did you even come to the match?" she asked her.

"Of course I did," said Hermione in a strangely high-pitched voice, not looking up. "And I'm very glad we won, and I think you did really well, but I need to read this by Monday."

"Come on, Hermione, come and have some food," Harry said, looking over at Ron and wondering whether he was in a good enough mood to bury the hatchet.

"I can't, Harry. I've still got four hundred and twenty-two pages to read!" said Hermione, now sounding slightly hysterical. "Anyway…" She glanced over at Ron too. "He doesn't want me to join in."

There was no arguing with this, as Ron chose that moment to say loudly, "If Scabbers hadn't just been eaten, he could have had some of those Fudge Flies. He used to really like them —"

Hermione burst into tears. Before Harry could say or do anything, she tucked the enormous book under her arm, and, still sobbing, ran toward the staircase to the girls' dormitories and out of sight. James glared viciously at Ron who shrank back and chased after her.

"Hermione?" James called entering the room to see Hermione crying on her bed.

"Why did you leave the party?" Hermione choked out as she looked at James tears still running down her face.

"Because my best friend is up here crying, Have you heard about her? She has brown hair and eyes with a pretty smile." James said leaning on the bed post giving Hermione a side look.

"No…" Hermione said with a small smile.

"Really? You know she's taking a lot of subjects this year…and she's ticklish!" James exclaimed jumping on Hermione and tickling her. Hermione laughed loudly before the two ended up falling on opposite sides of her bed. They stared up at the ceiling breathing heavily.

"Do you think Scabbers is really dead?" Hermione asked quietly.

"No, Crookshanks said he didn't eat him and Scabbers has been acting weird ever since Sirius Black has escaped." James said with a shake of her head.

"Do you think I could take the potion, now?" Hermione asked quietly.

"If you want too." James said.

"Alright lets do it." Hermione said with a smile.

"you do know it's illegal right?" James asked with a smirk looking at Hermione as they got up.

"So?" Hermione asked with a raise of her eyebrow and James snorted but handed Hermione the silver potion and she drank it eagerly. James watched as Hermione began to shrink and then she looked at her new form, a hawk. She was a magnificent bird. Hermione then ruined the image by tripping over her feet and James snorted. Hermione squawked at her angrily.

"Go on get use to that form." James said and after an hour Hermione and her were chatting excitedly about it.

"I say we give each other nicknames." James said with a smirk which Hermione returned.

"But what?" Hermione asked and James took out the map.

"James Black, would like to know if she and her friend Hermione Granger could join the Marauders?" James asked the map and Hermione watched as the parchment began to show words.

Mr. Prongs would like to know if you are related to a Sirius Black?

Mr. Padfoot agrees with Mr. Prongs and would like to know as well.

Mr. Moony fells sorry for you if you are.

Mr. Wormtail would like some cheese.

"He's my father." James answered easily and Hermione giggled as she watched the map blank before more writing came.

Mr. Prongs is in shock.

Mr. Padfoot would like to know why his son is named after Mr. Prongs.

Mr. Moony feels sorry for Mr. Padfoots _**Daughter**_ and would also like to know who her mother is.

Mr. Wormtail has no comment.

Mr. Padfoot, I named my daughter after Prongs? What the hell was I thinking?

Mr. Prongs, we probably made a bet Padfoot.

"Yes, okay this is weird…" Hermione said and she looked at James who had a frown on her face.

"So Prongs is James Potter, Padfoot is Sirius Black, Moony I would guess is Professor Lupin, and Wormtail is…Peter Pettigrew." James said in shock and Hermione looked shocked as well.

Mr. Prongs would like to know what your animagus forms are.

Mr. Padfoot would like to congratulate his daughter in becoming a marauderette.

"Um I'm a fox and Hermione is a hawk." James said with a smile.

Mr. Prongs suggests Miss Sly and Miss Sleek.

Mr. Padfoot suggests Miss Vix and Miss Strike.

Mr. Moony suggests Miss Clever and Miss Fierce.

Mr. Wormtail suggests Miss Foxy and Miss Feathers.

"Miss Sly." James said with a smirk and Hermione looked contemplative.

"I guess Miss Fierce." Hermione said and then more words came up.

The Marauders would like to welcome Miss Sly and Miss Fierce to the Marauders, now repeat after us.

Afterus Imageus.

"Afterus Imageus." They said in unison tapping the paper with their wands and they watched with huge grins when the map changed slightly.

Mr. Prongs, Mr. Padfoot, Mr. Moony, Mr. Wormtail, Miss Sly, and Miss Fierce would like to welcome you to the Marauders map.

"Oh that is so cool…Micheif managed." James said tapping the parchment as the other girls came up. James hid the map and bid Hermione a good night. The two went to sleep soon enough.

James found herself in a forest staring at Scabbers. His tail was waving at her and then the Marauders map showed up, her mind was about to make a connection when she was startled awake by a shot.

"AAARRGGHH! NOOO!"

James woke as suddenly as though she'd been hit in the face. Disoriented in the total darkness, she fumbled with her hangings, she could hear movements around her, and Hermione's voice from the other side of the room.

"What's going on?"

James shrugged and the other girls and her started out the dorm to see older students out and about.

"Who shouted?"

"What're you doing?"

The common room was lit with the glow of the dying fire, still littered with the debris from the party. It was deserted.

"Are you sure you weren't dreaming, Ron?" Harry's voice sounded and the girls looked over towards them.

"I'm telling you, I saw him!"

"What's all the noise?"

"Professor McGonagall told us to go to bed!"

A few of the younger girls had come down their staircase, pulling on dressing gowns and yawning. Boys, too, were reappearing.

"Excellent, are we carrying on?" said Fred Weasley brightly.

"Everyone back upstairs!" said Percy, hurrying into the common room and pinning his Head Boy badge to his pajamas as he spoke.

"Perce — Sirius Black!" said Ron faintly. "In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!"

The common room went very still and all eyes went from Ron to James who had grabbed Hermione's hand tightly.

"Nonsense!" said Percy, looking startled. "You had too much to eat, Ron — had a nightmare —"

"I'm telling you —"

"Now, really, enough's enough!"

Professor McGonagall was back. She slammed the portrait behind her as she entered the common room and stared furiously around.

"I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!"

"I certainly didn't authorize this, Professor!" said Percy, puffing himself up indignantly. "I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare —"

"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!" Ron yelled. "PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!"

Professor McGonagall stared at him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?"

"Ask him!" said Ron, pointing a shaking finger at the back of Sir Cadogan's picture. "Ask him if he saw —"

Glaring suspiciously at Ron, Professor McGonagall pushed the portrait back open and went outside. The whole common room listened with bated breath. "Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"

"Certainly, good lady! Looks just like the Bonny Lass." cried Sir Cadogan. James choked on air and Hermione squeezed her hand back. There was a stunned silence, both inside and outside the common room.

"You — you did?" said Professor McGonagall. "But — but the password!"

"He had 'em!" said Sir Cadogan proudly. "Had the whole week's, my lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper!"

Professor McGonagall pulled herself back through the portrait hole to face the stunned crowd. She was white as chalk.

"Which person," she said, her voice shaking, "which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?"

There was utter silence, broken by the smallest of terrified squeaks. Neville Longbottom, trembling from head to fluffy slippered toes, raised his hand slowly into the air. James could still feel her insides frosted over gave a feeble chuckle.

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SO did you like it or not? No, yes, maybe? Well review my lovely readers!~

KrisxCross out!~


	14. Chapter 14

Hey this is chapter 14!~ Hope you like it!~ I have picked some of the parings!

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No one in Gryffindor Tower slept that night. They knew that the castle was being searched again, and the whole House stayed awake in the common room, waiting to hear whether Black had been caught. Professor McGonagall came back at dawn, to tell them that he had again escaped. Throughout the day, everywhere they went they saw signs of tighter security; Professor Flitwick could be seen teaching the front doors to recognize a large picture of Sirius Black; Filch was suddenly bustling up and down the corridors, boarding up everything from tiny cracks in the walls to mouse holes. Sir Cadogan had been fired.

His portrait had been taken back to its lonely landing on the seventh floor, and the Fat Lady was back. She had been expertly restored, but was still extremely nervous, and had agreed to return to her job only on condition that she was given extra protection. A bunch of surly security trolls had been hired to guard her. They paced the corridor in a menacing group, talking in grunts and comparing the size of their clubs.

James couldn't help noticing that the statue of the one-eyed witch on the third floor remained unguarded and unblocked. It seemed that Fred and George had been right in thinking that they — and now James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione — were the only ones who knew about the hidden passageway within it.

"D'you reckon we should tell someone?" Harry asked Ron.

"We know he's not coming in through Honeyduke's," said Ron dismissively. "We'd've heard if the shop had been broken into."

James wasn't sure to be glad Ron took this view or worried. If the one-eyed witch was boarded up too, she and Harry would never be able to go into Hogsmeade again.

Ron had become an instant celebrity. For the first time in his life, people were paying more attention to him than to Harry, and it was clear that Ron was rather enjoying the experience. Hermione and I joked about how big his head was getting and I was pleased to see her happy, now it was two against two.

Though still severely shaken by the night's events, he was happy to tell anyone who asked what had happened, with a wealth of detail.

"… I was asleep, and I heard this ripping noise, and I thought it was in my dream, you know? But then there was this draft… I woke up and one side of the hangings on my bed had been pulled down… I rolled over… and I saw him standing over me… like a skeleton, with loads of filthy hair… holding this great long knife, must've been twelve inches… and he looked at me, and I looked at him, and then I yelled, and he scampered."

"Why, though?" Ron added to Harry as the group of second year girls who had been listening to his chilling tale departed. "Why did he run?"

James had been wondering the same thing. Why hadn't her father, having got the wrong bed, not silenced Ron and proceeded to Harry?

Her father had proved twelve years ago that he didn't mind murdering innocent people, and this time he had been facing five unarmed boys, four of whom were asleep.

"He must've known he'd have a job getting back out of the castle once you'd yelled and woken people up," said Harry thoughtfully. "He'd've had to kill the whole house to get back through the portrait hole… then he would've met the teachers…"

Neville was in total disgrace, no matter what James said to McGonagall his punishment was still bad although she had calmed the teacher down a lot.

Professor McGonagall was so furious with him she had given him a week of detentions, and forbidden anyone to give him the password into the tower. Poor Neville was forced to wait outside the common room every night for somebody to let him in, while the security trolls leered unpleasantly at him. James had been pissed and McGonagall had been stuck high on catnip in her office for two days before someone noticed, she wasn't caught either. The map was a gold mined and she barely let Harry use it.

None of these punishments, however, came close to matching the one his grandmother had in store for him. Two days after Black's break-in, she sent Neville the very worst thing a Hogwarts student could receive over breakfast — a Howler.

The school owls swooped into the Great Hall carrying the mail as usual, and Neville choked as a huge barn owl landed in front of him, a scarlet envelope clutched in its beak. James, Harry, and Ron, who were sitting opposite him, recognized the letter as a Howler at once — Ron had got one from his mother the year before.

"Run for it, Neville," Ron advised.

Neville didn't need telling twice. He seized the envelope, and holding it before him like a bomb, sprinted out of the hall, while the Slytherin table exploded with laughter at the sight of him, they soon all had pink hair a loud yell of shut the hell up from James. They heard the Howler go off in the entrance hall

Neville's grandmother's voice, magically magnified to a hundred times its usual volume, shrieking about how he had brought shame on the whole family. James planned a nice howler fro that woman, about how to take care of a child. They left to the tower, Hermione giggling about the slytherins pink hair. A large group of people was bunched around the bulletin board when they returned to the common room.

"Hogsmeade, next weekend!" said Ron, craning over the heads to read the new notice. "What d'you reckon?" he added quietly to Harry as they went to sit down.

"Well, Filch hasn't done anything about the passage into Honeydukes…" Harry said, even more quietly.

"Harry!" said a voice in his right ear. Harry started and looked around at Hermione, who was sitting at the table right behind them and clearing a space in the wall of books that had been hiding her.

"Harry, if you go into Hogsmeade again… I'll tell Professor McGonagall about that map!" said Hermione.

"You wound me, Mione! The map isn't just Harry's!" James said with fake dramatics that made Hermione giggle.

"Can you hear someone talking, Harry?" growled Ron, not looking at Hermione.

"Ron, how can you let him go with you? After what Sirius Black nearly did to you! I mean it, I'll tell —"

"So now you're trying to get Harry expelled!" said Ron furiously. "Haven't you done enough damage this year?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but with a soft hiss, Crookshanks leapt onto her lap. Hermione took one frightened look at the expression on Ron's face, gathered up Crookshanks, and hurried away toward the girls' dormitories.

"Your such a jackass Ron!" James yelled and slapped him across the face and ran after Hermione.

James found Hermione talking to the map again and she smiled at the girl and read over her shoulder.

Mr. Prongs would like to apologize on behalf of his son's ways.

Mr. Padfoot would like to know what his daughter did in retribution.

Mr. Moony thinks that Hermione should be the one to get revenge.

"Miss Sly would like to say that Miss Fierce has already been reattributed." James said causing Hermione to jump. James and Hermione spent the rest of the day laughing and James even did Hermione's hair so it was straight with it flipping at the ends and with Hermione's pleading, she shrunk the brunette's two front teeth. The two then did each other's nails, Hermione's a plum purple and James's a light blue. When the two went to dinner in some of James's muggle clothes people couldn't believe their eyes when they saw Hermione…where was the awkward girl that was still becoming a woman?

"Ha…Dean's looking at you, with a love struck face." James said snickering while Hermione blushed bright red and smacked her.

"Shut up Sly." Hermione said with a glare and James bumped hips with the girl.

"That's why your Fierce." James said dodging a hit and siting in between the twins and holding on to Fred.

"Save me from Fierce!" James said dramatically and the twins chuckled but let Hermione sit in between then and next to James who called them traitors. The twins then picked the two up and put them on their shoulders and ran off the two girls laughing and squealing.

"Faster Gred!" James said with laugh.

"No, Forge their winning!" Hermione whined and then the twins were neck in neck un they ended up tripping and Hermione and James went flying towards the portrait.

"FORTUNA MAJOR!" They screamed and the fat lady joined them quickly opening so they crashed into the common room roaring with laughter. The two went to sleep that night with smiles on their face.

"Let me borrow the map," Harry said during breakfast and James sighing handed it over.

"If you get caught, I swear to god I will murder you." James said with a glare before going with Hermione to Hagrid's hut, he was crying…

"We ost teh hearin." Hagrid said sobbing holding on to Buckbeak.

"They cant' do that!" James said with a glare.

"Oh no, but we worked so hard on the hearing." Hermione said. The spent the rest afternoon with him before the two headed off to the common room.

"Oh merlin, James is going to kill me…The map getting taken up by Lupin…"James heard Harry complain to Ron.

"The MAP WAS WHAT!" James screamed with a red face as she glared at the now frightened boys.

"It was Malfoy's fault…" Ron began but James cut him off with a glare.

"We thought you should know, Hagrid lost the hearing…" Hermione said with a sad frown and going by their shocked faces the girls knew they forgot about Hagrid and his case. James glared hard at Harry, " I trusted you with the map and you can't even keep it without getting caught? I knew I shouldn't of gave it to you."

The two boys watched as the girls walked away from them both feeling guilty and ashamed.

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Sorry it's so short but I didn't know what to do with James in this chapter so I went with the story line but with James in the center of action I had to cut out the Snape incident. Please Review.

KrisxCross out!~


	15. Chapter 15

Hey this is Chapter 15! Enjoy my lovely readers!~

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"They can't do this," said Harry. "They can't. Buckbeak isn't dangerous."

James glared heatedly at the wall saying, "It's not like that matters. Malfoy probably has half the ministry sitting in his coin pockets"

"Malfoy's dad's frightened the Committee into it," said Hermione in agreement, wiping her eyes. "You know what he's like. They're a bunch of doddery old fools, and they were scared. There'll be an appeal, though, there always is. Only I can't see any hope… Nothing will have changed."

"Yeah, it will," said Ron fiercely. "You won't have to do all the work alone this time, Hermione, James. I'll help."

"Oh, Ron!"

Hermione flung her arms around Ron's neck and broke down completely. James smirked behind her hand and made a mental note to make a bet against Fred about the two becoming a couple.

Ron, looking quite terrified, patted her very awkwardly on the top of the head.

Finally, Hermione drew away, her long straight hair falling her against her neck and shoulders.

"Ron, I'm really, really sorry about Scabbers…" she sobbed with tearful chocolate brown eyes.

"Oh — well — he was old," said Ron, looking thoroughly relieved that she had let go of him his ears a crimson red.

"And he was a bit useless. You never know, Mum and Dad might get me an owl now."

The safety measures imposed on the students since Black's second break-in made it impossible for Harry, James, Ron, and Hermione to go and visit Hagrid in the evenings. Their only chance of talking to him was during Care of Magical Creatures lessons.

He seemed numb with shock at the verdict.

"S'all my fault. Got all tongue-tied. They was all sittin' there in black robes an' I kep' droppin' me notes and forgettin' all them dates yeh looked up fer me, James, Hermione. An' then Lucius Malfoy stood up an' said his bit, and the Committee jus' did exac'ly what he told 'em…"

"There's still the appeal!" said Ron fiercely. "Don't give up yet, we're working on it!"

They were walking back up to the castle with the rest of the class. Ahead they could see Malfoy, who was walking with Crabbe and Goyle, and kept looking back, laughing derisively.

"S'no good, Ron," said Hagrid sadly as they reached the castle steps. "That Committee's in Lucius Malfoy's pocket. I'm jus' gonna make sure the rest o' Beaky's time is the happiest he's ever had. I owe him that…"

Hagrid turned around and hurried back toward his cabin, his face buried in his handkerchief.

"Look at him blubber!"

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had been standing just inside the castle doors, listening.

"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Malfoy. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"

Harry and Ron both made furious moves toward Malfoy, but Hermione and James got there first — SMACK!

Hermione had slapped Malfoy across the face with all the strength she could muster and when he moved to the left James slammed her fist into his face.

Malfoy staggered. Harry, Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Hermione and James raised their hands again.

"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul — you evil —"

"Hermione!" said Ron weakly, and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back.

"Get off, Ron!"

James pulled out her wand. Malfoy stepped backward. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered.

"C'mon." Malfoy muttered, and in a moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway to the dungeons.

"Hermione! James!" Ron said again, sounding both stunned and impressed.

"Harry, James, you'd better beat him in the Quidditch final!" Hermione said shrilly. "You just better had, because I can't stand it if Slytherin wins!"

"We're due in Charms," said Ron, still goggling at Hermione. "We'd better go."

They hurried up the marble staircase toward Professor Flitwick's classroom.

"You're late, Children!" said Professor Flitwick reprovingly as James opened the classroom door. "Come along, quickly, wands out, we're experimenting with Cheering Charms today, we've already divided into pairs —"

James, Harry, and Ron hurried to a desk at the back and opened their bags. Ron looked behind him.

"Where's Hermione gone?"

James looked around too. Hermione hadn't entered the classroom, yet James knew she had been right next to her when she had opened the door.

"That's weird," said Harry, staring at Ron. "Maybe — maybe she went to the bathroom or something?"

But Hermione didn't turn up all lesson and James had to work by herself, getting the charm first and becoming Flitwick's favorite during that particular class.

"She could've done with a Cheering Charm on her too," said Ron as the class left for lunch, all grinning broadly — the Cheering Charms had left them with a feeling of great contentment.

Hermione wasn't at lunch either. By the time they had finished their apple pie, the after-effects of the Cheering Charms were wearing off, and Harry and Ron had started to get slightly worried.

"You don't think Malfoy did something to her?" Ron said anxiously as they hurried upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower.

"He better not have touched her!" James growled, baring her teeth in anger at the thought of it.

They passed the security trolls, gave the Fat Lady the password ("Flibbertigibbet"), and scrambled through the portrait hole into the common room.

Hermione was sitting at a table, fast asleep, her head resting on an open Arithmancy book.

They went to sit down on either side of her. Harry prodded her awake.

"Wh — what?" said Hermione, waking with a start and staring wildly around. "Is it time to go? W — which lesson have we got now?"

"Divination and Ancient Ruin's I think, but it's not for another twenty minutes," said Harry. "Hermione, why didn't you come to Charms?"

"What? Oh no!" Hermione squeaked. "I forgot to go to Charms!"

"But how could you forget?" said James. "You were with us till we were right outside the classroom!"

"I don't believe it!" Hermione wailed. "Was Professor Flitwick angry? Oh, it was Malfoy, I was thinking about him and I lost track of things!"

"You know what, Hermione?" said Ron, looking down at the enormous Arithmancy book Hermione had been using as a pillow. "I reckon you're cracking up. You're trying to do too much."

"No, I'm not!" said Hermione, brushing her hair out of her eyes and staring hopelessly around for her bag. "I just made a mistake, that's all! I'd better go and see Professor Flitwick and say sorry… I'll see you in Divination!"

Hermione Joined James outside the Ancient Runes classroom.

"I can't believe I missed Cheering Charms! And I bet they come up in our exams; Professor Flitwick hinted they might!"

Together they walked into the classroom.

James and Hermione sat down together at the same rickety table. The teacher began to go on and on about what this squiggle meant this and James looked to see Hermione was working on another classes work and trying to take notes, so James took out her note taking quill and smacked Hermione's hand away and had the wand write what the teacher said. Hermione gave her a thankful smile and James just nodded her head and then frowned. Damn it…now she had to take her own notes. After Ancient Runes, Somehow Hermione had ran out of divination and how she did it her three friends did not know.

The Easter holidays were not exactly relaxing. The third years had never had so much homework. Neville Longbottom seemed close to a nervous collapse, and he wasn't the only one.

"Call this a holiday!" Seamus Finnigan roared at the common room one afternoon. "The exams are ages away, what're they playing at?"

"They're not playing, that's what." James called to him causing snorts to sound from the others as she helped Hermione with her work load by marking pages for her charms, potions, and Defense essays in seven different books.

Nobody had as much to do as Hermione. Even without Divination, she was taking more subjects than anybody else. She was usually last to leave the common room at night, first to arrive at the library the next morning; she had shadows like Lupin's under her eyes, and seemed constantly close to tears. James helped as best she could but Hermione would not let James do her work for her.

Ron had taken over responsibility for Buckbeak's appeal.

When he wasn't doing his own work, he was poring over enormously thick volumes with names like The Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology and Fowl or Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality. He was so absorbed, he even forgot to be horrible to Crookshanks.

James, meanwhile, had to fit in her homework around Quidditch practice every day, not to mention helping Hermione with her work and writing letters to several different people at once. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays. Slytherin was leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points. This meant (as Wood constantly reminded his team) that they needed to win the match by more than that amount to win the Cup. It also meant that the burden of winning fell largely on Harry, because capturing the Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points. James herself was being pushed harder than the other chasers because, for some reason Alicia and Katie had more 'experience' than she did. Which James said was total bullshit, Katie was the only one to score besides herself because the Alicia and Katie were too busy ogling Harry's new broom.

"So you must catch it only if we're more than fifty points up," Wood told Harry constantly. "Only if we're more than fifty points up, Harry, or we win the match but lose the Cup. You've got that, Haven't you? You must catch the Snitch only if we're —"

"I KNOW, OLIVER!" Harry yelled.

The whole of Gryffindor House was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Weasley (Ron's second oldest brother and James's new pen pal) had been Seeker. But Harry doubted whether any of them, even Wood, wanted to win as much as he did. The enmity between Harry and Malfoy was at its highest point ever. Malfoy was still smarting about the mud-throwing incident in Hogsmeade and was even more furious that Harry had somehow wormed his way out of punishment. Harry hadn't forgotten Malfoy's attempt to sabotage him in the match against Ravenclaw, but it was the matter of Buckbeak that made him most determined to beat Malfoy in front of the entire school. James and Malfoy had a high family feud going on and it got worse in classes and the two always left an inch away from coming to blows.

Never, in anyone's memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere. By the time the holidays were over, tension between the two teams and their Houses was at the breaking point. A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, culminating in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth year and a Slytherin sixth year ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears.

Harry was having a particularly bad time of it. He couldn't walk to class without Slytherins sticking out their legs and trying to trip him up; Crabbe and Goyle kept popping up wherever he went, and slouching away looking disappointed when they saw him surrounded by people. James was the only Gryffindor besides Hermione that the Slytherins left alone. Hermione was left alone because when she had been targeted James had cursed the guilty seventh year so bad he was still in the hospital wing, the teachers couldn't even pin it on James because the only proof they had was she said and he said.

Wood had given instructions that Harry should be accompanied everywhere he went, in case the Slytherins tried to put him out of action. The whole of Gryffindor House took up the challenge enthusiastically, so that it was impossible for Harry to get to classes on time because he was surrounded by a vast, chattering crowd. Harry was more concerned for his Firebolt's safety than his own. When he wasn't flying it, he locked it securely in his trunk and frequently dashed back up to Gryffindor Tower at break times to check that it was still there.

All usual pursuits were abandoned in the Gryffindor common room the night before the match. Even Hermione had put down her books.

"I can't work, I can't concentrate," she said nervously.

There was a great deal of noise. Fred and George Weasley were dealing with the pressure by being louder and more exuberant than ever. Oliver Wood was crouched over a model of a Quidditch field in the corner, prodding little figures across it with his wand and muttering to himself Alicia and Katie were laughing at Fred's and George's jokes. Harry was sitting with James, Ron, and Hermione, removed from the center of things, trying not to think about the next day, because every time he did, he had the horrible sensation that something very large was fighting to get out of his stomach.

"You're going to be fine," Hermione told him, though she looked positively terrified.

"You've got a Firebolt!" said Ron.

"Yeah…" said Harry, his stomach writhing.

It came as a relief when Wood suddenly stood up and yelled, "Team! Bed!"

James had sighed and left to go to bed, she was the only calm one. She went to bed easily dreaming of a grim, stag, werewolf, and Scabbers. It was a weird dream where Scabbers betrayed the stag to a basilisk's and was killed. Then the grim had gone after the rat but had gotten caught by flying pigs. The werewolf had turned his back on the grim and the grim's fox daughter lived with a lot of monsters with the stag's lion of a son. She woke up when the basilisk's had made to strike her.

It was a few seconds before James remembered that she was a human and that she was safe in bed. She was feeling very thirsty. Quietly as she could, she got out of her four-poster and went to pour herself some water from the silver jug beneath the window.

The grounds were still and quiet. No breath of wind disturbed the treetops in the Forbidden Forest; the Whomping Willow was motionless and innocent-looking.

James snorted at her own thoughts, the Willow innocent-looking…sure it was.

It looked as though the conditions for the match would be perfect.

James set down her goblet and was about to turn back to her bed when something caught her eye. An animal of some kind was prowling across the silvery lawn.

James dashed to the window. It couldn't be the Grim — not now — not right before the match —

She peered out at the grounds again and, after a minute's frantic searching, spotted it. It was skirting the edge of the forest now… It wasn't the Grim at all… it was a cat… James clutched the window ledge in relief as she recognized the bottlebrush tail. It was only Crookshanks…

Or was it only Crookshanks? James squinted, pressing her nose flat against the glass. Crookshanks seemed to have come to a halt. James was sure she could see something else moving in the shadow of the trees too.

And just then, it emerged — a gigantic, shaggy black dog, moving stealthily across the lawn, Crookshanks trotting at its side.

James stared. What did this mean? If Crookshanks could see the dog as well, how could it be an omen of James's death? Wait, no…it couldn't be…Dad…?

James looked quickly back out of the window her thoughts shaken off.

Crookshanks and the dog had vanished. James climbed onto the windowsill to look right down into the shadows of the castle, but they weren't there. Where had they gone?

James and the rest of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall the next day to enormous applause. Harry couldn't help grinning broadly as he saw that both the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were applauding them too. The Slytherin table hissed loudly as they passed. Harry noticed that Malfoy looked even paler than usual.

Wood spent the whole of breakfast urging his team to eat, while touching nothing himself until James force fed him some toast and tea. Then he hurried them off to the field before anyone else had finished, so they could get an idea of the conditions. As they left the Great Hall, everyone applauded again.

"Good luck, Harry!" called Cho. Harry felt himself blushing.

"Good luck, James!" called around twenty guys with FB badges and James gave a weak smile at them.

"Okay — no wind to speak of — sun's a bit bright, that could impair your vision, watch out for it — ground's fairly hard, good, that'll give us a fast kickoff —"

Wood paced the field, staring around with the team behind him. Finally, they saw the front doors of the castle open in the distance and the rest of the school spilling onto the lawn.

"Locker rooms," said Wood tersely.

None of them spoke as they changed into their scarlet robes. James wondered if they were feeling alright, everyone looked pale and Alicia looked like she was going to be sick.

In what seemed like no time at all, Wood was saying, "Okay, it's time, let's go —"

They walked out onto the field to a tidal wave of noise. Three quarters of the crowd was wearing scarlet rosettes, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them, or brandishing banners with slogans like "GO GRYFFINDOR!" and "LIONS FOR THE CUP." Behind the Slytherin goal posts, however, two hundred people were wearing green; the silver serpent of Slytherin glittered on their flags, and Professor Snape sat in the very front row, wearing green like everyone else, and a very grim smile.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee Jordan, who was acting as commentator as usual. "Potter, Bell, Black, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years —"

Lee's comments were drowned by a tide of 'boos' from the Slytherin end.

"And here come the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint. He's made some changes in the lineup and seems to be going for size rather than skill —"

More boos from the Slytherin crowd. James, however, thought Lee had a point. Malfoy was easily the smallest person On the Slytherin team; the rest of them were enormous.

"Captains, shake hands!" said Madam Hooch.

"More like…Captains, grip hands and see who can crush whose fingers first" James whispered to Fred and George who snorted.

Flint and Wood approached each other and grasped each other's hand very tightly; it looked as though each was trying to break the other's fingers.

"Mount your brooms!" said Madam Hooch. "Three… two… one…"

The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air. James felt her hair fly back off her forehead; her nerves left her in the thrill of the flight; she glanced around, saw Malfoy on Harry's tail, and sped off catching the quaffle.

"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no — Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing UP the field — WHAM! — nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by — James, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, James — nice swerve around Montague — duck, James, that's a Bludger! – SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

James punched the air as she soared around the end of the field; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight

"Son of a Toll!"

James was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus Flint went smashing into her.

"Sorry!" said Flint as the crowd below booed. "Sorry, didn't see her!"

A moment later, Fred Weasley chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head. Flint's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.

"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between then. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"

"Come off it, Miss!" howled Fred, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Alicia flew forward to take the penalty.

"Come on, Katie!" yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the crowd. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

James turned her broom sharply to watch Flint, still bleeding freely, fly forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Wood was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goal posts, his jaw clenched.

"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee Jordan told the crowd as Flint waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. "Superb! Very difficult to pass — very difficult indeed — YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!"

Relieved, James zoomed away, gazing around for the quaffle, but still making sure she caught every word of Lee's commentary. It was essential that she help get the score up to fifty.

"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession — no! Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie, Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field — THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"

Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, had swerved in front of Katie, and instead of seizing the Quaffle had grabbed her head. Katie cart-wheeled in the air, managed to stay on her broom, but dropped the Quaffle.

Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again as she soared over to Montague and began shouting at him. A minute later, James had put another penalty past the Slytherin Keeper.

"THIRTY-ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING —"

"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way —"

"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!"

James laughed at the commentary and went to intercept the quaffle when…

WHOOSH.

One of the Bludgers came streaking past James's right ear, hit by the gigantic Slytherin Beater, Derrick. Then again…

WHOOSH.

The second Bludger smashed into her elbow. The other Beater, Bole, was closing in.

James had a fleeting glimpse of Bole and Derrick zooming toward her, clubs raised — she turned the broom upward at the last second, and Bole and Derrick collided with a sickening crunch and James felt her who right elbow throb. It was broken, she knew that and it was her good arm too…

"Ha haaa!" yelled Lee Jordan as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from each other, clutching their heads. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat James Black! And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Black takes the Quaffle — Flint alongside her — poke him in the eye, James! — it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke — oh no — Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save —!"

But Flint had scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end, and Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him. James swore just as badly because she knew it was because of her bad arm that flint was able to get the quaffle.

"Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won't happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession —"

It was turning into the dirtiest game James had ever played in. Enraged that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead, the Slytherins were rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. Bole hit Alicia with his club and tried to say he'd thought she was a Bludger.

George Weasley elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties, and Wood pulled off another spectacular save, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor.

The Snitch had disappeared again. Malfoy was still keeping close to Harry as he soared over the match, looking around for it once Gryffindor was fifty points ahead —

Katie scored.

Fifty-ten. Fred and George Weasley were swooping around her, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Bole and Derrick took advantage of Fred's and George's absence to aim both Bludgers at James; they caught her in the stomach, one after the other, and she rolled over in the air, clutching her broom, completely winded and in pain. Her ribs and her right arm were shot but she was going to keep going.

Madam Hooch was beside herself —

"YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE CHASER'S UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THEIR ARMS!" she shrieked at Bole and Derrick. "Gryffindor penalty!"

And James scored. Sixty-ten.

Moments later, Fred Weasley pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands; Alicia seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal — seventy-ten.

The Gryffindor crowd below was screaming itself hoarse — Gryffindor was sixty points in the lead, and if Harry caught the Snitch now, the Cup was theirs. James could almost feel hundreds of eyes following Harry as he soared around the field, high above the rest of the game, with Malfoy speeding along behind him.

And then she saw it. The Snitch was sparkling twenty feet above Harry.

Harry put on a huge burst of speed; the wind was roaring in his ears; he stretched out his hand, but suddenly, the Firebolt was slowing down —

Horrified, he looked around. Malfoy had thrown himself forward, grabbed hold of the Firebolt's tail, and was pulling it back.

"You —"

Harry was angry enough to hit Malfoy, but couldn't reach — Malfoy was panting with the effort of holding onto the Firebolt, but his eyes were sparkling maliciously. He had achieved what he'd wanted to do — the Snitch had disappeared again.

"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics." Madam Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Malfoy was sliding back onto his Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

"YOU CHEATING SCUM!" Lee Jordan was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Professor McGonagall's reach. "YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B —"

Professor McGonagall didn't even bother to tell him off. She was actually shaking her finger in Malfoy's direction, her hat had fallen off, and she too was shouting furiously.

Alicia took Gryffindor's penalty, but she was so angry she missed by several feet. The Gryffindor team was losing concentration and the Slytherins, delighted by Malfoy's foul on Harry, were being spurred on to greater heights.

"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal — Montague scores —" Lee groaned. "Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor…"

James was now on Flint's right side, dodging a buldger that smashed into Flint's right arm with a crack and caught the quaffle and flew to score.

"Get out of it, Potter!" Malfoy yelled in frustration as he tried to turn and found Harry blocking him.

"James Black gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, JAY JAY, COME ON!"

Harry looked around. Every single Slytherin player apart from Malfoy was streaking up the pitch toward James, including the Slytherin Keeper — they were all going to block her — Harry wheeled the Firebolt around, bent so low he was lying flat along the handle, and kicked it forward. Like a bullet, he shot toward the Slytherins.

"AAAAAAARRRGH!"

They scattered as the Firebolt zoomed toward them; James's way was clear.

"SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor leads by eighty Points to twenty!"

James smiled in triumph looked to see what was going on in the game and marking Flint and using him as a shield, the beaters of Slytherin team were very stupid since they still hadn't noticed that.

Harry, who had almost pelted headlong into the stands, skidded to a halt in midair, reversed, and zoomed back into the middle of the field.

And then he saw something to make his heart stand still. Malfoy was diving, a look of triumph on his face — there, a few feet above the grass below, was a tiny, golden glimmer —Harry urged the Firebolt downward, but Malfoy was miles ahead —

"Go! Go! Go!" Harry urged his broom. He was gaining on Malfoy — Harry flattened himself to the broom handle as Bole sent a Bludger at him — he was at Malfoy's ankles — he was level —

Harry threw himself forward, took both hands off his broom. He knocked Malfoy's arm out of the way and —

He pulled out of his dive, his hand in the air, and the stadium exploded. Harry soared above the crowd, an odd ringing in his ears. The tiny golden ball was held tight in his fist, beating its wings hopelessly against his fingers.

Then Wood was speeding toward him, half-blinded by tears; he seized Harry around the neck and sobbed unrestrainedly into his shoulder. Harry felt two large thumps as Fred and George hit them; then James's, Alicia's, and Katie's voices, "We've won the Cup! We've won the Cup!" Tangled together in a many-armed hug, the Gryffindor team sank, yelling hoarsely, back to earth.

Wave upon wave of crimson supporters was pouring over the barriers onto the field. Hands were raining down on their backs. James had a confused impression of noise and bodies pressing in on her. Then she, and the rest of the team, were hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd. Thrust into the light, she saw Hagrid, Plastered with crimson rosettes — "Yeh beat 'em, Harry, James, yeh beat 'em! Wait till I tell Buckbeak!"

There was Percy, jumping up and down like a maniac, all dignity forgotten. Professor McGonagall was sobbing harder even than Wood, wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag; and there, fighting their way toward Harry, were Ron and Hermione. Words failed them. They simply beamed as Harry was borne toward the stands, where Dumbledore stood waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup.

If only there had been a Dementor around… As a sobbing Wood passed Harry the Cup, as he lifted it into the air, Harry felt he could have produced the world's best Patronus. James laughed and then she felt arms grab her under her arms and swing her around in a hug and then something soft on her lips. She opened her eyes and lock them with pale blue orbs of Fred Weasley…her heart fluttered and she did what felt right. She closed her eyes and threw her arms around Fred's neck and kissed him back, two pairs of eyes watched them. Two amber eyes and Two steel colored eyes from opposite directions saw the moment between the two.

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So did you like it or no? Review please!~

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	16. Chapter 16

Hey here is Chapter 16!~ Please enjoy!

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James's euphoria at finally winning the Quidditch Cup lasted at least a week, her and Fred's kiss had led to the two dating, secretly for now. Even the weather seemed to be celebrating; as June approached, the days became cloudless and sultry, and all anybody felt like doing was strolling onto the grounds and flopping down on the grass with several pints of iced pumpkin juice, perhaps playing a casual game of Gobstones or watching the giant squid propel itself dreamily across the surface of the lake.

But they couldn't. Exams were nearly upon them, and instead of lazing around outside, the students were forced to remain inside the castle, trying to bully their brains into concentrating while enticing wafts of summer air drifted in through the windows.

Even Fred and George Weasley had been spotted working with James there to help them; they were about to take their O.W.L.s (Ordinary Wizarding Levels). Percy was getting ready to take his N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests), the highest qualification Hogwarts offered. As Percy hoped to enter the Ministry of Magic, he needed top grades. He was becoming increasingly edgy, and gave very severe punishments to anybody who disturbed the quiet of the common room in the evenings. In fact, the only person who seemed more anxious than Percy was Hermione.

Harry and Ron had given up asking her how she was managing to attend several classes at once, but they couldn't restrain themselves when they saw the exam schedule she had drawn up for herself James had snorted and went back to her Herbology textbook her face pale. The first column read:

Monday

9 o'clock, Arithmancy

9 o'clock, Transfiguration

Lunch

1 o'clock, Charms

1 o'clock, Ancient Runes

"Hermione?" Ron said cautiously, because she was liable to explode when interrupted these days. James had just thrown her book into the fire, in exasperation and almost broke down when it went up in flames. Fred barely got it out, scorched, but it could still be read.

"Er — are you sure you've copied down these times right?"

"What?" snapped Hermione, picking up the exam schedule and examining it. "Yes, of course I have."

"Is there any point asking how you're going to sit for two exams at once?" said Harry.

"No," said Hermione shortly looking at James and Fred who had shared a quick kiss before going back to studying.

"Have either of you seen my copy of Numerology and Gramatica?"

"Oh, yeah, I borrowed it for a bit of bedtime reading," said Ron, but very quietly.

Hermione started shifting heaps of parchment around on her table, looking for the book. Just then, there was a rustle at the window and Hedwig fluttered through it, a note clutched tightly in her beak.

"It's from Hagrid" said Harry, ripping the note open. "Buckbeak's appeal – It's set for the sixth."

"That's the day we finish our exams" said James handing Hermione her book that had fallen on the floor.

"And they're coming here to do it" said Harry, still reading from the letter. "Someone from the Ministry of Magic and – and an executioner"

"They've already decided to kill him" James said, her voice bitter with her eyes filling with tears.

Hermione looked up, startled.

"They're bringing the executioner to the appeal! But that sounds as though they've already decided!"

"Yeah, it does" said Harry slowly.

"They can't!" Ron howled. "I've spent ages reading up stuff for him, they can't just ignore it all!"

But James had a horrible feeling that the committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures had its mind made up for it by Mr Malfoy. Draco, who had been noticeably subdued since Gryffindor's triumph in the Quidditch final.

Seemed to regain some of his old swagger over the next few days. From sneering comments Harry overheard, Malfoy was certain Buckbeak was going to be killed, and seemed thoroughly pleased with himself for bringing it about. Fred was the only person there that held her back from attacking the bastard.

And the worst thing of all was that they had no time or opportunity to go and see Hagrid, because the strict new security measures had not been lifted, and Harry didn't dare retrieve his Invisibility Cloak from below the one-eyed witch.

Exam week began, and an unusual hush fell over the castle. The third years emerged from Transfiguration at lunchtime on Monday limp and ashen faced, comparing the results and bemoaning the difficulty of the tasks they had been set, which had included turning a teapot into a turtle.

Hermione irritated the rest by fussing about how her tortoise had looked more like a turtle, which was the least of everyone else's worries. James had laughed at her and said her's was perfect, pissing off the others.

"Mine still had a spout for a tail, what a nightmare..."

"Were the tortoises supposed to breathe steam?"

"It still had a willow patterned shell, d'you think that'll count against me?"

Then, after a hasty lunch, it was straight back upstairs for the charms exam. Hermione had been right; Professor Flitwick did indeed test them on Cheering Charms. Harry slightly overdid his out of nerves and Ron, who was partnering him, ended up in fits of hysterical laughter and had to be led away to a quiet room for an hour before he was ready to perform the charm himself. James had done the charm correctly but had hit another students partner because of sneezing when she had cast the spell. After dinner, the students hurried back to their common rooms, not to relax, but to start revising for Care of Magical Creatures, Potions and Astronomy

Hagrid presided over the Care of Magical Creatures exam the following morning with a very preoccupied air indeed; his heart didn't seem to be into it at all.

He had provided a large tub of fresh Flubberworms for the class, and told them that, to pass the test, their Flobberworm had to still be alive at the end of one hour. As Flobberworms flourished best if left to their own devided, it was the easiest exam any of them had ever sat, and also gave Harry, James, Ron, and Hermione plenty of opportunity to speak to Hagrid.

"Beaky's gettin' a bit depressed," Hagrid told them, bending low on the pretense of checking that Harry's flobberworm was still alive. "Bin cooped up too long. But still… we'll know day after tomorrow — one way or the other —"

They had Potions that afternoon, which was an unqualified disaster. James and Snape seemed to be in a duel with their eyes as James did her potion perfectly, turning it into a thick sludge brown that it was required to be. Snape seemed to grudgingly give her a good grade and stalked off towards a tearful Neville who had a thick orange potion for some reason.

Then came Astronomy at midnight, up on the tallest tower; History of Magic on Wednesday morning, in which James scribbled everything Florean Fortescue had ever told Harry and her about medieval witch-hunts, while wishing she could have had one of Fortescue's choconut sundaes with her in the stifling classroom.

Wednesday afternoon meant Herbology, in the greenhouses under a baking-hot sun, which James moaned about failing; then back to the common room once more, with sunburnt necks, thinking longingly of this time next day, when it would all be over.

Their second to last exam, on Thursday morning, was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Lupin had compiled the most unusual exam any of them had ever taken; a sort of obstacle course outside in the sun, where they had to wade across a deep paddling pool containing a Grindylow, cross a series of potholes full of Red Caps, squish their way across a patch of marsh while ignoring misleading directions from a Hinkypunk, then climb into an old trunk and battle with a new Boggart.

"Excellent, Harry," Lupin muttered as Harry climbed out of the trunk, grinning. "Full marks."

Flushed with his success, Harry hung around to watch Ron and Hermione. Ron did very well until he reached the Hinkypunk, which successfully confused him into sinking waist-high into the quagmire. Hermione did everything perfectly until she reached the trunk with the Boggart in it. After about a minute inside it, she burst out again, screaming.

"Hermione!" said Lupin, startled. "What's the matter?"

"P-P-Professor McGonagall!" Hermione gasped, pointing into the trunk. "Sh-she said I'd failed everything!"

James had did the field perfectly, even though her boggart for some reason had changed into a perfect image of Scabbers…

It took a little while to calm Hermione down. When at last she had regained a grip on herself, she, Harry, James, and Ron went back to the castle. Ron was still slightly inclined to laugh at Hermione's Boggart, but an argument was averted by the sight that met them on the top of the steps.

Cornelius Fudge, sweating slightly in his pinstriped cloak, was standing there staring out at the grounds. He started at the sight of Harry.

"Hello there, Harry!" he said. "Just had an exam, I expect? Nearly finished?"

"Yes," said Harry. Hermione and Ron, not being on speaking terms with the Minister of Magic, hovered awkwardly in the background. James had glared at him and stood by Harry's side.

"Lovely day," said Fudge, casting an eye over the lake. "Pity… pity…"

He sighed deeply and looked down at Harry.

"I'm here on an unpleasant mission, Harry. The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures required a witness to the execution of a mad Hippogriff. As I needed to visit Hogwarts to check on the Black situation, I was asked to step in."

"Does that mean the appeal's already happened?" James interrupted with a furious glare on her face.

"No, no, it's scheduled for this afternoon," said Fudge, looking curiously at James

"Then you might not have to witness an execution at all!" said James, with the famous Black glare on her face. "The Hippogriff might get off!"

Before Fudge could answer, two wizards came through the castle doors behind him. One was so ancient he appeared to be withering before their very eyes; the other was tall and strapping, with a thin back mustache. James gathered that they were representatives of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, because the very old wizard squinted toward Hagrid's cabin and said in a feeble voice, "Dear, dear, I'm getting too old for this… Two o'clock, isn't it, Fudge?"

The black-mustached man was fingering something in his belt; James looked and saw that he was running one broad thumb along the blade of a shining axe.

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione nudged him hard in the ribs and jerked her head toward the entrance hall.

"Why'd you stop me?" said Ron angrily as they entered the Great Hall for lunch. "Did you see them? They've even got the axe ready! This isn't justice!"

"Ron, your dad works for the Ministry, you can't go saying things like that to his boss! It's bad enough James did!" said Hermione, but she too looked very upset. "As long as Hagrid keeps his head this time, and argues his case properly, they can't possibly execute Buckbeak…"

But James could tell Hermione didn't really believe what she was saying. All around them, people were talking excitedly as they ate their lunch, happily anticipating the end of the exams that afternoon, but James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, lost in worry about Hagrid and Buckbeak, didn't join in. All were thinking about James's final words were to Fudge.

"I can see how fucked up the ministry is…I can honestly say I'm glad I can always fall back on my muggle background when I graduate from Hogwarts." James had said to the outraged looking man but she could really care less for the jackass.

Harry's and Ron's last exam was Divination; Hermione's, Muggle studies. James had already taken Ancient Rune's with Hermione.

Five minutes later he was dashing past the security trolls outside the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, Professor Trelawney's words still resounding in his head. People were striding past him in the opposite direction, laughing and joking, heading for the grounds and a bit of long-awaited freedom; by the time he had reached the portrait hole and entered the common room, it was almost deserted. Over in the corner, however, sat James, Ron, and Hermione.

"Professor Trelawney," Harry panted, "just told me —"

But he stopped abruptly at the sight of their faces.

"Buckbeak lost," said Ron weakly. "Hagrid's just sent this."

Hagrid's note was dry this time, no tears had splattered it, yet his hand seemed to have shaken so much as he wrote that it was hardly legible.

Lost appeal. They're going to execute at sunset. Nothing you can do. Don't come down. I don't want you to see it.

Hagrid

"We've got to go," said Harry at once. "He can't just sit there on his own, waiting for the executioner!"

"Sunset, though," said Ron, who was staring out the window in a glazed sort of way. "We'd never be allowed… 'specially you, Harry…"

Harry sank his head into his hands, thinking.

"If we only had the Invisibility Cloak…"

"Where is it?" said Hermione.

Harry told her about leaving it in the passageway under the one-eyed witch.

"… if Snape sees me anywhere near there again, I'm in serious trouble," he finished.

"That's true," said Hermione, getting to her feet. "If he sees you… How do you open the witch's hump again?"

"You — you tap it and say, 'Dissendium,'" said Harry. "But —"

Hermione didn't wait for the rest of his sentence; she strode across the room, pushed open the Fat Lady's portrait and vanished from sight.

"She hasn't gone to get it?" Ron said, staring after her.

She had. Hermione returned a quarter of an hour later with the silvery cloak folded carefully under her robes. James had to be pulled away by Ron from Fred who was celebrating with her about the exams ending.

"Hermione, I don't know what's gotten, into you lately!" said Ron, astounded. "First you get your hair done by James, hit Malfoy, then you walk out on Professor Trelawney —"

Hermione looked rather flattered.

They went down to dinner with everybody else, but did not return to Gryffindor Tower afterward. Harry had the cloak hidden down the front of his robes; he had to keep his arms folded to hide the lump. They skulked in an empty chamber off the entrance hall, listening, until they were sure it was deserted. They heard a last pair of people hurrying across the hall and a door slamming. Hermione poked her head around the door.

"Okay," she whispered, "no one there — cloak on —"

Walking very close together so that nobody would see them, they crossed the hall on tiptoe beneath the cloak, then walked down the stone front steps into the grounds. James felt suffocated as she was the one in the middle being the smallest of the group.

The sun was already sinking behind the Forbidden Forest, gilding the top branches of the trees. They reached Hagrid's cabin and knocked. He was a minute in answering, and when he did, he looked all around for his visitor, pale-faced and trembling.

"It's us," Harry hissed. "We're wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off."

"Yeh shouldn've come!" Hagrid whispered, but he stood back, and they stepped inside. Hagrid shut the door quickly and Harry pulled off the cloak.

Hagrid was not crying, nor did he throw himself upon their necks. He looked like a man who did not know where he was or what to do. This helplessness was worse to watch than tears.

"Wan' some tea?" he said. His great hands were shaking as he reached for the kettle.

"Where's Buckbeak, Hagrid?" said Hermione hesitantly.

"I — I took him outside," said Hagrid, spilling milk all over the table as he filled up the jug. "He's tethered in me pumpkin patch. Thought he oughta see the trees an' — an' smell fresh air — before —"

Hagrid's hand trembled so violently that the milk jug slipped from his grasp and shattered all over the floor.

"I'll do it, Hagrid," said Hermione quickly, hurrying over and starting to clean up the mess.

"There's another one in the cupboard," Hagrid said, sitting down and wiping his forehead on his sleeve. Harry glanced at Ron, who looked back hopelessly. James had finally seen enough and pulled the large man into a hug which he seemed to need.

"Isn't there anything anyone can do, Hagrid?" Harry asked fiercely, sitting down next to him. "Dumbledore —"

"He's tried," said Hagrid. "He's got no power ter overrule the Committee. He told 'em Buckbeak's all right, but they're scared… Yeh know what Lucius Malfoy's like… threatened 'em, I expect… an' the executioner, Macnair, he's an old pal o' Malfoy's… but it'll be quick an' clean… an' I'll be beside him…"

"It's just horrible..." James trailed off with tears in her eyes as she looked away sitting on another chair.

Hagrid swallowed. His eyes were darting all over the cabin as though looking for some shred of hope or comfort.

"Dumbledore's gonna come down while it — while it happens. Wrote me this mornin'. Said he wants ter — ter be with me. Great man, Dumbledore…"

Hermione, who had been rummaging in Hagrid's cupboard for another milk jug, let out a small, quickly stifled sob. She straightened up with the new jug in her hands, fighting back tears.

"We'll stay with you too, Hagrid," she began, but Hagrid shook his shaggy head.

"Yeh're ter go back up ter the castle. I told yeh, I don' wan' yeh watchin'. An' yeh shouldn' be down here anyway… If Fudge an' Dumbledore catch yeh out without permission, Harry, yeh'll be in big trouble."

Silent tears were now streaming down Hermione's face, but she hid them from Hagrid, bustling around making tea. Then, as she picked up the milk bottle to pour some into the jug, she let out a shriek.

"Ron, I don't believe it — it's Scabbers!"

Ron gaped at her.

"What are you talking about?"

Hermione carried the milk jug over to the table and turned it upside down. With a frantic squeak, and much scrambling to get back inside, Scabbers the rat came sliding out onto the table. James felt her heart beat increase and her eyes followed the rats every move.

"Scabbers!" said Ron blankly. "Scabbers, what are you doing here?"

He grabbed the struggling rat and held him up to the light. Scabbers looked dreadful. He was thinner than ever, large tufts of hair had fallen out leaving wide bald patches, and he writhed in Ron's hands as though desperate to free himself.

"It's okay, Scabbers!" said Ron. "No cats! There's nothing here to hurt you!"

Hagrid suddenly stood up, his eyes fixed on the window. His normally ruddy face had gone the color of parchment.

"They're comin'…"

James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione whipped around. A group of men was walking down the distant castle steps. In front was Albus Dumbledore, his silver beard gleaming in the dying sun. Next to him trotted Cornelius Fudge. Behind them came the feeble old Committee member and the executioner, Macnair.

"Oh no..."

"Yeh gotta go," said Hagrid. Every inch of him was trembling. "They mustn' find yeh here… Go now…"

Ron stuffed Scabbers into his pocket and Hermione picked up the cloak. "I'll let yeh out the back way," said Hagrid.

They followed him to the door into his back garden. James felt strangely unreal, and even more so when she saw Buckbeak a few yards away, tethered to a tree behind Hagrid's pumpkin patch. Buckbeak seemed to know something was happening. He turned his sharp head from side to side and pawed the ground nervously.

"It's okay, Beaky," said Hagrid softly. "It's okay…" He turned to James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Go on," he said. "Get goin'."

But they didn't move.

"Hagrid, we can't —"

"We'll tell them what really happened —"

"They can't kill him —"

"Go!" said Hagrid fiercely. "It's bad enough without you lot in trouble an' all!"

They had no choice. As Hermione threw the cloak over James, Harry, and Ron, they heard voices at the front of the cabin. Hagrid looked at the place where they had just vanished from sight.

"Go quick," he said hoarsely. "Don' listen…"

And he strode back into his cabin as someone knocked at the front door.

Slowly, in a kind of horrified trance, James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off silently around Hagrid's house. As they reached the other side, the front door closed with a sharp snap.

"Please, let's hurry," Hermione whispered. "I can't stand it, I can't bear it…"

They started up the sloping lawn toward the castle. The sun was sinking fast now; the sky had turned to a clear, purple-tinged gray, but to the west there was a ruby-red glow.

Ron stopped dead.

"Oh, please, Ron," Hermione began.

"It's Scabbers — he won't — stay put —"

Ron was bent over, trying to keep Scabbers in his pocket, but the rat was going berserk; squeaking madly, twisting and flailing, trying to sink his teeth into Ron's hand.

"_No! He's near! I know he is! No don't let him get me! Must escape!"_ Scabbers squealed out and James's eyes narrowed on the rat.

"Scabbers, it's me, you idiot, it's Ron," Ron hissed.

They heard a door open behind them and men's voices.

"Oh, Ron, please let's move, they're going to do it!" Hermione breathed.

"Okay — Scabbers, stay put —"

They walked forward; Harry, like Hermione, was trying not to listen to the rumble of voices behind them. Ron stopped again.

"I can't hold him — Scabbers, shut up, everyone'll hear us —"

James only heard the rat repeating the same sentence over and over and James had a sick horrifying feeling that the rat wasn't a rat at all.

The rat was squealing wildly, but not loudly enough to cover up the sounds drifting from Hagrid's garden. There was a jumble of indistinct male voices, a silence, and then, without warning, the unmistakable swish and thud of an axe.

Hermione swayed on the spot and leant on James for support.

"They did it!" she whispered to her. "I'd — don't believe it — they did it!"

James however was watching Scabbers like a hawk, and Hermione finally noticed her friends stare on the rat.

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So you guys like or not?

Review please!

KrisxCross out!~


	17. Chapter 17

Omg, my favorite chapter! Enjoy!

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James's mind had gone blank with shock. The four of them stood transfixed with horror under the Invisibility Cloak. The very last rays of the setting sun were casting a bloody light over the long-shadowed grounds. Then, behind them, they heard a wild howling.

"Hagrid," Harry muttered. Without thinking about what he was doing, he made to turn back, but both Ron and Hermione seized his arms. James went back to staring at the rat and her head spin at what the fluff bastard was saying. It made no sense but the rat wasn't running from Crookshanks…

"We can't," said Ron, who was paper-white. "He'll be in worse trouble if they know we've been to see him…"

Hermione's breathing was shallow and uneven.

"How — could — they?" she choked. "How could they?"

"They're fucking bastards, that's how." James spat her eyes narrowing on the rat that had stilled at her voice before renewing his efforts.

"Come on," said Ron, whose teeth seemed to be chattering.

They set off back toward the castle, walking slowly to keep themselves hidden under the cloak. The light was fading fast now.

By the time they reached open ground, darkness was settling like a spell around them.

"Scabbers, keep still," Ron hissed, clamping his hand over his chest. The rat was wriggling madly. Ron came to a sudden halt, trying to force Scabbers deeper into his pocket. "What's the matter with you, You stupid rat? Stay still — OUCH! He bit me!"

"Ron, be quiet!" Hermione whispered urgently. "Fudge'll be out here in a minute —"

"He won't — stay — put —"

Scabbers was plainly terrified. He was writhing with all his might, trying to break free of Ron's grip.

"What's the matter with him?"

But James had just seen — stinking toward them, his body low to the ground, wide yellow eyes glinting eerily in the darkness — Crookshanks. Whether he could see them or was following the sound of Scabbers's squeaks, James couldn't tell. Her eyes were more on Scabbers.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione moaned. "No, go away, Crookshanks! Go away!"

But the cat was getting nearer —

"Scabbers — NO!"

Too late — the rat had slipped between Ron's clutching fingers, hit the ground, and scampered away. In one bound, Crookshanks sprang after him, and before they could stop him, Ron had thrown the Invisibility Cloak off himself and pelted away into the darkness.

"Ron!" Hermione moaned.

They looked at each other, then followed at a sprint; it was impossible to run full out under the cloak; they pulled it off and it streamed behind them like a banner as they hurtled after Ron; they could hear his feet thundering along ahead and his shouts at Crookshanks.

"Get away from him — get away — Scabbers, come here —"

There was a loud thud.

"Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat —"

The three almost fell over Ron; they skidded to a stop right in front of him. He was sprawled on the ground, but Scabbers was back in his pocket; he had both hands held tight over the quivering lump.

"Ron — come on back under the cloak —" Hermione panted. "Dumbledore — the Minister — they'll be coming back out in a minute —"

But before they could cover themselves again, before they could even catch their breath, they heard the soft pounding of gigantic paws… Something was bounding toward them, quiet as a shadow — an enormous, pale-eyed, jet-black dog.

Harry reached for his wand, but too late — the dog had made an enormous leap and the front paws hit him on the chest; he keeled over backward in a whirl of hair; he felt its hot breath, saw inch-long teeth —

But the force of its leap had carried it too far; it rolled off him. Dazed, feeling as though his ribs were broken, Harry tried to stand up; he could hear it growling as it skidded around for a new attack.

Ron was on his feet. As the dog sprang back toward them he pushed Harry aside; the dog's jaws fastened instead around Ron's outstretched arm. Harry lunged forward, he seized a handful of the brute's hair, but it was dragging Ron away as easily as though he were a rag doll —

Then, out of nowhere, something hit Harry so hard across the face he was knocked off his feet again. He heard Hermione shriek with pain and fall too. James screamed and then turned into her fox form and raced after the dog dodging the branches and leaping for the dog and biting into its leg.

Harry groped for his wand, blinking blood out of his eyes

"Lumos!" he whispered.

The wandlight showed him the trunk of a thick tree; they had chased Scabbers into the shadow of the Whomping Willow and its branches were creaking as though in a high wind, whipping backward and forward to stop them going nearer.

And there, at the base of the trunk, was the dog, dragging Ron backward into a large gap in the roots the fox/ James was soon kicked off which forced James turned back into her human form and was smacked by a branch again — Ron was fighting furiously, but his head and torso were slipping out of sight —

"Ron!" Harry shouted, trying to follow, but a heavy branch whipped lethally through the air and he was forced backward again. James was up again brushing her hair out of her face blood was falling from her mouth.

All they could see now was one of Ron's legs, which he had hooked around a root in an effort to stop the dog from pulling him farther underground — but a horrible crack cut the air like a gunshot; Ron's leg had broken, and a moment later, his foot vanished from sight.

"Harry — we've got to go for help —" Hermione gasped; she was bleeding too; the Willow had cut her across the shoulder.

"No! That thing's big enough to eat him; we haven't got time —"

"Harry — we're never going to get through without help —"

Another branch whipped down at them, twigs clenched like knuckles. James dodged and managed to slip down the hole with a determined look on her face.

"If that dog can get in and James can, we can," Harry panted, darting here and there, trying to find a way through the vicious, swishing branches, but he couldn't get an inch nearer to the tree roots without being in range of the tree's blows.

"Oh, help, help," Hermione whispered frantically, dancing uncertainly on the spot, "Please…"

Crookshanks darted forward. He slithered between the battering branches like a snake and placed his front paws upon a knot on the trunk.

Abruptly, as though the tree had been turned to marble, it stopped moving. Not a leaf twitched or shook.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione whispered uncertainly. She now grasped Harry's arm painfully hard. "How did he know —?"

"He's friends with that dog," said Harry grimly. "I've seen them together. Come on — and keep your wand out —"

They covered the distance to the trunk in seconds, but before they had reached the gap in the roots, Crookshanks had slid into it with a flick of his bottlebrush tail. Harry went next; he crawled forward, headfirst, and slid down an earthy slope to the bottom of a very low tunnel.

Crookshanks was a little way along, his eyes flashing in the light from Harry's wand. Seconds later, Hermione slithered down beside him. James was there holding her cloak to her face where her lip was split open.

"Where's Ron?" she whispered in a terrified voice. James motioned somewhere to the left and got up with her wand out.

"This way," said Harry, setting off, bent-backed, after Crookshanks.

"Where does this tunnel come out?" Hermione asked breathlessly from behind him.

"I don't know… It's marked on the Marauder's Map but Fred and George said no one's ever gotten into it… It goes off the edge of the map, but it looked like it was heading for Hogsmeade…"

They moved as fast as they could, bent almost double; ahead of them, Crookshanks's tail bobbed in and out of view. On and on went the passage; it felt at least as long as the one to Honeydukes… All James could think of was Ron and what the enormous dog might be doing to him… She was drawing breath in sharp, painful gasps, running at a crouch…

And then the tunnel began to rise; moments later it twisted, and Crookshanks had gone. Ahead James could see a patch of dim light through a small opening.

The three paused, gasping for breath, edging forward. Both raised their wands to see what lay beyond.

It was a room, a very disordered, dusty room. Paper was peeling from the walls; there were stains all over the floor; every piece of furniture was broken as though somebody had smashed it. The windows were all boarded up.

James glanced at Hermione, who looked very frightened but nodded.

Harry pulled himself out of the hole, staring around. The room was deserted, but a door to their right stood open, leading to a shadowy hallway. Hermione suddenly grabbed Harry's arm again. Her wide eyes were traveling around the boarded windows. James was out of the hole and had her wand pointed out and ready for anything.

"Harry…James," she whispered, "I think we're in the Shrieking Shack."

James looked around. Her eyes fell on a wooden chair near them. Large chunks had been torn out of it; one of the legs had been ripped off entirely.

"Ghosts didn't do that," Harry said slowly.

At that moment, there was a creak overhead. Something had moved upstairs. The three of them looked up at the ceiling. Hermione's grip on Harry's arm was so tight he was losing feeling in his fingers.

He raised his eyebrows at her; she nodded again and let go.

Quietly as they could, they crept out into the hall and up the crumbling staircase. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust except the floor, where a wide shiny stripe had been made by something being dragged upstairs.

They reached the dark landing.

"Nox," they whispered together, and the lights at the end of their wands went out. Only one door was open. As they crept toward it, they heard movement from behind it; a low moan, and then a deep, loud purring. They exchanged a last look, a last nod.

Wand held tightly before her, James kicked the door wide open.

On a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings lay Crookshanks, purring loudly at the sight of them. On the floor beside him, clutching his leg, which stuck out at a strange angle, was Ron.

James, Harry, and Hermione dashed across to him.

"Ron — are you okay?" Hermione asked in worry.

"Where's the dog?" James asked with a panicked look.

"Not a dog," Ron moaned. His teeth were gritted with pain. "Harry, it's a trap —"

"What —"

"He's the dog… he's an Animagus."

Ron was staring over James's shoulder. James wheeled around. With a snap, the man in the shadows closed the door behind them.

A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a grin. It was Sirius Black an unhealthy older version of James with steel colored eyes.

"Expelliarmus!" he croaked, pointing Ron's wand at them.

James's, Harry's, and Hermione's wands shot out of their hands, high in the air, and Black caught them. Then he took a step closer. His eyes were fixed on Harry and James.

"I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said hoarsely.

His voice sounded as though he had long since lost the habit of using it. "Your father would have done the same for me, As I would have. Brave of you not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful… it will make everything much easier…"

The taunt about Harry's father rang in James's ears as though Black had bellowed it. James felt her insides freeze over…this couldn't be her …father…no please…

Without knowing what he was doing, he started forward, but there was a sudden movement on either side of him and two pairs of hands grabbed him and held him back…"No, Harry!" Hermione gasped in a petrified whisper; Ron, however, spoke to Black.

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" he said fiercely, though the effort of standing upright was draining him of still more colour, and he swayed slightly as he spoke. James stood firm standing in front of Harry her eyes hard.

Something flickered in Black's shadowed eyes.

"Lie down," he said quietly to Ron. "You will damage that leg even more."

"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly, though he was clinging painfully to Harry to stay upright. "You'll have to kill all four of us!"

"There'll be only one murder here tonight," said Black, and his grin widened.

"Why's that?" Harry spat, trying to wrench himself free of James and Hermione. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew… What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

"Harry!" Hermione whimpered. "Be quiet!"

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared, and with a huge effort he broke free of Hermione's and James's restraint and lunged forward —

He had forgotten about magic — he had forgotten that he was short and skinny and thirteen, whereas Black was a tall, full-grown man — all Harry knew was that he wanted to hurt Black as badly as he could and that he didn't care how much he got hurt in return —

Perhaps it was the shock of Harry doing something so stupid, but Black didn't raise the wands in time — one of Harry's hands fastened over his wasted wrist, forcing the wand tips away; the knuckles of Harry's other hand collided with the side of Black's head and they fell, backward, into the wall —

James was crying; Hermione was screaming; Ron was yelling; there was a blinding flash as the wands in Black's hand sent a jet of sparks into the air that missed Harry's face by inches;

Harry felt the shrunken arm under his fingers twisting madly, but he clung on, his other hand punching every part of Black it could find. James felt tears fall from her eyes at the sight…god damn it Harry…

But Black's free hand had found Harry's throat

"No," he hissed, "I've waited too long —"

The fingers tightened, Harry choked, his glasses askew.

Then he saw Hermione's foot swing out of nowhere. Black let go of Harry with a grunt of pain; Ron had thrown himself on Black's wand hand and Harry heard a faint clatter —

He fought free of the tangle of bodies and saw his own wand rolling across the floor; he threw himself toward it but

"Argh!"

Crookshanks had joined the fray; both sets of front claws had sunk themselves deep into Harry's arm; Harry threw him off, but Crookshanks now darted toward Harry's wand —

"NO YOU DON'T!" roared Harry, and he aimed a kick at Crookshanks that made the cat leap aside, spitting; Harry snatched up his wand and turned —

"Get out of the way!" he shouted at Ron and Hermione.

They didn't need telling twice. Hermione, gasping for breath, her lip bleeding, scrambled aside, snatching up her and Ron's wands. Ron crawled to the four-poster and collapsed onto it, panting, his white face now tinged with green, both hands clutching his broken leg.

Black was sprawled at the bottom of the wall. His thin chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched Harry walking slowly nearer, his wand pointing straight at Black's heart.

"Going to kill me, Harry?" he whispered.

Harry stopped right above him, his wand still pointing at Black's chest, looking down at him. A livid bruise was rising around Black's left eye and his nose was bleeding.

"You killed my parents," said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.

Black stared up at him out of those sunken eyes and then Harry was staring at his cousin's torso.

"Move James…"Harry growled as he stared at his cousin but then he saw it…James was crying and shaking badly.

"Your not gonna kill him Harry…I can't let you do that…" James said her voice cracking.

"He killed my parents…You don't have a say!" Harry yelled with blurry green eyes.

"So you'll kill mine? An eye for an eye right? Harry, your not going to kill my father…If your going to do an eye for an eye than your only option is to kill me…show him how you feel…because I won't let you kill him." James said her voice getting stronger as she held her wand tighter.

"But if you knew the whole story, you two wouldn't have to do this…" Sirius trailed off when his daughter and nephew looked at him.

"The whole story?" Harry repeated, a furious pounding in his ears. "You sold them to Voldemort. That's all I need to know."

"You've got to listen to me," Black said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now. "You'll regret it if you don't… You don't understand…"

"I understand a lot better than you think," said Harry, and his voice shook more than ever. "You never heard her, did you? My mum… trying to stop Voldemort killing me… and you did that… you did it…"

Before either of them could say another word, something ginger streaked past Harry and James; Crookshanks leapt onto Black's chest and settled himself there, right over Black's heart. Black blinked and looked down at the cat.

"Get off," he murmured, trying to push Crookshanks off him.

But Crookshanks sank his claws into Black's robes and wouldn't shift. He turned his ugly, squashed face to Harry and looked up at him with those great yellow eyes. To his right, Hermione gave a dry sob.

Harry stared down at James, Black, and Crookshanks, his grip tightening on the wand. So what if he had to kill the cat too? It was in league with Black… If it was prepared to die, trying to protect Black, that wasn't Harry's business… If Black wanted to save it, that only proved he cared more for Crookshanks than for Harry's parents…James... she's his daughter if it meant she died for him too…it shouldn't matter…

Harry raised the wand. Now was the moment to do it. Now was the moment to avenge his mother and father. He was going to kill Black. He had to kill Black. This was his chance…

The seconds lengthened. And still Harry stood frozen there, wand poised, Black staring up at him, Crookshanks on his chest. Ron's ragged breathing came from near the bed; Hermione was quite silent. James was staring at the wand and was standing in front of Black, not moving an inch.

And then came a new sound —

Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor — someone was moving downstairs.

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione screamed suddenly. "WE'RE UP HERE — SIRIUS BLACK — QUICK!"

Black made a startled movement that almost dislodged Crookshanks; Harry gripped his wand convulsively — Do it now! said a voice in his head — but the footsteps were thundering up the stairs and Harry still hadn't done it.

The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Harry wheeled around as Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering next to the door, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet with James standing infront of Black with her face tear stained wand pointed at Harry.

"Expelliarmus!" Lupin shouted.

James's and Harry's wands flew once more out of their hands; so did the two Hermione was holding. Lupin caught them all deftly, then moved into the room, staring at Black, who still had Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest and James standing in front of him protectively.

Harry stood there, feeling suddenly empty. He hadn't done it. His nerve had failed him. Black was going to be handed back to the Dementors.

Then Lupin spoke, in a very tense voice.

"Where is he, Sirius?"

James looked quickly at Lupin. Sh didn't understand what Lupin meant. Who was Lupin talking about? She turned to look at Black again.

Black's face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Ron. Mystified, James glanced around at Ron, who looked bewildered.

"But then…" Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, "… why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless" — Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see, "— unless he was the one… unless you switched… without telling me?"

Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin's face, Black nodded.

"Professor," Harry interrupted loudly, "what's going on —?"

"Of Course…" James breathed looking at Scabbers who was completely still in Ron's pocket…all the times he said he was coming for me it was her father…

But Harry never finished the question, because what he saw made his voice die in his throat. Lupin was lowering his wand, gazing fixed at Black. The Professor walked to Black's side, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet so that Crookshanks fell to the floor, and embraced Black like a brother and James made a move closer to Ron.

Harry felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. James was still looking at Scabbers intently.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed.

Lupin let go of Black and turned to her. She had raised herself off the floor and was pointing at Lupin, wild-eyed. "You — you —"

"Hermione —"

"– you and him!"

"Hermione, calm down —"

"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shrieked. "I've been covering up for you —"

"Hermione, listen to me, please" Lupin shouted. "I can explain —"

Harry could feel himself shaking, not with fear, but with a fresh wave of fury.

"I trusted you," he shouted at Lupin, his voice wavering, out of control, "and all the time you've been his friend!"

"You're wrong," said Lupin. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now — Let me explain…"

"NO!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too — he's a werewolf!"

"So…? Just because he's a werewolf doesn't mean anything…being a werewolf wasn't his choice, Right?" James asked looking a Lupin who nodded quickly and Hermione just looked at James with fury.

"You knew too! You betrayed us as well, not helping Harry and standing in front of Black!" Hermione yelled with tears and a glare on her face as James flinched from it.

There was a ringing silence. Everyone's eyes were now on Lupin, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale.

"Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," he said. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead." An odd shiver passed over his face. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."

Ron made a valiant effort to get up again but fell back with a whimper of pain. Lupin made toward him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped, "Get away from me, werewolf!"

"Jackass! He's worried about you!" James hissed at Ron who looked at James with a glare of his own but he couldn't look at her either, she had betrayed them for her murdering father.

Lupin stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort, he turned to Hermione and said, "How long have you known?"

"Ages," Hermione whispered. "Since I did Professor Snape's essay…"

"When I saw you on the train…I read a book…You should the signs the werewolf in the books said would be there…"James said with a sigh not even looking at her friends anymore.

"He'll be delighted," said Lupin coolly. "He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant… Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the Boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?"

"Both," Hermione said quietly, with a smirk from James.

Lupin forced a laugh.

"You're both the cleverest witches of your age I've ever met, Hermione, James."

"I'm not," Hermione whispered. "If I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have told everyone what you are!"

"But they already know," said James. "At least, the staff do."

"Dumbledore hired him when he knew he was a werewolf," Ron gasped. "Is he mad?"

"Some of the staff thought so," said Lupin. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy —"

"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Harry yelled. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!"

He was pointing at Black, who suddenly crossed to the four-poster bed and sank onto it, his face hidden in one shaking hand. James was by his side with a frown on her face not knowing what to do.

Crookshanks leapt up beside him and stepped onto his lap, purring. Ron edged away from the three of them, dragging his leg.

"I have not been helping Sirius," said Lupin. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look —"

He separated James's, Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's wands and threw each back to its owner; James caught her's and began using minor healing charms she had practiced easily on her father who gave her a weak smile.

"There," said Lupin, sticking his own wand back into his belt "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"

Harry didn't know what to think. Was it a trick?

"If you haven't been helping him," he said, with a furious glance at Black, "how did you know he was here?"

"The map," said Lupin. "The Marauder's Map. I was in my office examining it —"

"You know how to work it?" Harry said suspiciously.

"He helped write it…" James said with a small laugh and Hermione's lips quirked slightly.

"Of course I know how to work it," said Lupin, waving his hand impatiently. "I helped write it. I'm Moony — that was my friends' nickname for me at school. Although I saw two extra names on it now…two Misses…"

"You wrote —?"

"The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, James, Ron, and Hermione might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his Hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn't I?"

He had started to pace up and down, looking at them. Little patches of dust rose at his feet.

"You might have been wearing your father's old cloak, Harry—"

"How d'you know about the cloak?"

"The number of times I saw James disappearing under it…" said Lupin, waving an impatient hand again.

"The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid, and set off back toward the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else."

"What?" said Harry. "No, we weren't!"

"I couldn't believe my eyes," said Lupin, still pacing, and ignoring Harry's interruption. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"

"No one was with us!" said Harry.

"Yes someone was! Dumbass, seriously we went into Hagrids and came out with one more person…who or what did we leave with?" James asked with sarcasm and then Hermione's face got a look of realization on it.

"No way…they said he was…but then he'd have too…but no…" Hermione mumbled looking at Scabbers and then James who was nodding at her.

"And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled Sirius Black… I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow —"

"One of us!" Ron said angrily.

"No, Ron," said Lupin. "Two of you."

He had stopped his pacing, his eyes moving over Ron.

"Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he said evenly.

"So it's true…" Hermione said with a frown as she looked at James and moved towards her to the boys shock.

"What?" said Ron. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," said Lupin. "Could I see him, please?"

Ron hesitated, then put a hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Ron had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks stood up on Black's leg and made a soft hissing noise.

Lupin moved closer to Ron. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers.

"What?" Ron said again, holding Scabbers close to him, looking scared. "What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"That's not a rat," croaked Sirius Black suddenly.

"What d'you mean — of course he's a rat —"

"No, he's not," said Lupin quietly. "He's a wizard."

"An Animagus," said Hermione and James, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."

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That was shocking wasn't it? No, yes? Well review!

KrisxCross out!~


	18. Chapter 18

Hey you guys here is chapter18~

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It took a few seconds for the absurdity of this statement to sink in. Then Ron voiced what Harry was thinking.

"You're both mental."

"Peter Pettigrew's dead!" said Harry. "He killed him twelve years ago!" He pointed at Black, whose face twitched convulsively.

"I meant to," he growled, his yellow teeth bared, "but little Peter got the better of me… not this time, though!"

And Crookshanks was thrown to the floor as Black lunged at Scabbers the two girls jumping apart; Ron yelled with pain as Black's weight fell on his broken leg.

"Sirius, NO!" Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from Ron again, "WAIT! You can't do it just like that — they need to understand — we've got to explain —"

"We can explain afterwards!" snarled Black, trying to throw Lupin off. One hand was still clawing the air as it tried to reach Scabbers, who was squealing like a piglet, scratching Ron's face and neck as he tried to escape.

"Dad, They've — got — a — right — to — know — everything!" James panted, helping Lupin to restrain Black. "Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't understand, and Harry — you owe Harry the truth, Sirius! You owe me the truth, daddy…"

Black stopped struggling, though his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamped tightly under Ron's bitten, scratched, and bleeding hands.

"All right, then," Black said, without taking his eyes off the rat. "Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for…"

"You're nutters, both of you," said Ron shakily, looking round at Harry for support. "I've had enough of this. I'm off."

He tried to heave himself up on his good leg, but Lupin raised his wand again, pointing it at Scabbers.

"You're going to hear me out, Ron," he said quietly. "Just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen."

"HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!" Ron yelled, trying to force the rat back into his front pocket, but Scabbers was fighting too hard; Ron swayed and overbalanced, and Harry caught him am pushed him back down to the bed. Then, ignoring Black, Harry turned to Lupin.

"There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die," he said. "A whole street full of them…"

"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" said Black savagely, still watching Scabbers struggling in Ron's hands. James and Hermione put their hands on his shoulders and he seemed to calm down.

"Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter," said Lupin, nodding. "I believed it myself — until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder's map never lies… Peter's alive. Ron's holding him, Harry."

Harry looked down at Ron, and as their eyes met, they agreed, silently: Black and Lupin were both out of their minds. Their story made no sense whatsoever. How could Scabbers be Peter Pettigrew? Azkaban must have unhinged Black after all — but why was Lupin playing along with him?

"If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus," said Black, who was still watching Scabbers's every desperate move. "I've waited twelve years, I'm not going to wait much longer."

"All right… but you'll need to help me, Sirius," said Lupin, "I only know how it began…"

Lupin broke off. There had been a loud creak behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord. All five of them stared at it. Then Lupin strode toward it and looked out into the landing.

"No one there…"

"This place is haunted!" said Ron.

"It's not," said Lupin, still looking at the door in a puzzled way. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted… The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me."

He pushed his graying hair out of his eyes, thought for a moment then said, "That's where all of this starts — with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten… and if I hadn't been so foolhardy…"

He looked sober and tired. Ron started to interrupt, but Hermione, said, "Shh!" She was watching Lupin very intently. James had a small encouraging look on her face.

"I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week, preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform… I'm able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again. Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me. But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't come to school…" Lupin sighed, and looked directly at Harry. "I told you, months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted because I came to Hogwarts. This house" — Lupin looked miserably around the room, — "the tunnel that leads to it — they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous."

Harry couldn't see where this story was going, but he was listening raptly all the same. The only sound apart from Lupin's voice was Scabbers's frightened squeaking.

"My transformations in those days were — were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumor… Even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don't dare approach it…But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, three great friends. Sirius Black… Peter Pettigrew… and, of course, your father, Harry — James Potter.

"Now, my three friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home to see her… I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you two, James, Hermione, worked out the truth…And they didn't desert me at all. Instead, they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi."

"My dad too?" said Harry, astounded.

"Yes, indeed," said Lupin. "It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your father and Sirius here were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong — one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needed all the help he could get from James and Sirius. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at will."

"But how did that help you?" said Hermione, sounding puzzled.

"They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals," said Lupin. "A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James's Invisibility Cloak. They transformed… Peter, as the smallest, could slip beneath the Willow's attacking branches and touch the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them."

"Hurry up, Remus," snarled Black, who was still watching Scabbers with a horrible sort of hunger on his face.

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there… well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether any Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did… And that's how we came to write the Marauder's Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot. Peter is Wormtail. James was Prongs."

"What sort of animal —?" Harry began, but Hermione cut him off. "That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?"

"A thought that still haunts me," said Lupin heavily. "And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless — carried away with our own cleverness. I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore's trust, of course… he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others' safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month's adventure. And I haven't changed…"

Lupin's face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in his voice. "All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd led others along with me… and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it… so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."

"Snape?" said Black harshly, taking his eyes off Scabbers; for the first time in minutes and looking up at Lupin. "What's Snape got to do with it?"

"He's here, Sirius," said Lupin heavily. "He's teaching here as well." He looked up at James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons… you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me —"

Black made a derisive noise.

"It served him right," he sneered. "Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to… hoping he could get us expelled…"

"Severus was very interested in where I went every month." Lupin told James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "We were in the same year, you know, and we — er — didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James's talent on the Quidditch field… anyway Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be — er — amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it — if he'd got as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf — but your father, who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life… Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was…"

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," said Harry slowly, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"

"That's right," sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Lupin.

Severus Snape was pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing directly at Lupin.

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So, do you guys like it or no?

Review please~

KrisxCross out!~


	19. Chapter 19

So here is Chapter 19~

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Hermione screamed. Black leapt to his feet. James felt as though she'd received a huge electric shock.

"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," said Snape, throwing the cloak aside, careful to keep this wand pointing directly at Lupin's chest. "Very useful, Potter, I thank you…"

Snape was slightly breathless, but his face was full of suppressed triumph. "You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?" he said, his eyes glittering. "I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did… lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

"Severus —" Lupin began, but Snape overrode him.

"I've told the headmaster again and again that you're helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout —"

"Severus, you're making a mistake," said Lupin urgently. "You haven't heard everything — I can explain — Sirius is not here to kill Harry —"

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," said Snape, his eyes now gleaming fanatically. "I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this… He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin… a tame werewolf —"

"You fool," said Lupin softly. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"

BANG! Thin, snakelike cords burst from the end of Snape's wand and twisted themselves around Lupin's mouth, wrists, and ankles; he overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move.

"Profesor!" James made to move only to have Snape's wand pointed at her face.

With a roar of rage, Black started toward Snape, but Snape pointed his wand straight between Black's eyes.

"Give me a reason," he whispered. "Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."

Black stopped dead. It would have been impossible to say which face showed more hatred.

James stood there, paralysed, not knowing what to do. She glanced around at Hermione. Hermione, however, took an uncertain step toward Snape and said, in a very breathless voice, "Professor Snape — it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w-would it?"

"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school," Snape spat. "You, Potter, Black, and Weasley are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, hold your tongue."

"But if — if there was a mistake —"

"KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!"

A few sparks shot out of the end of his wand, which was still pointed at Black's face. Hermione fell silent and James had gone red in the face with rage, she fingered her wand…

"Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at Black. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you…"

"The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled.

"As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle" — he jerked his head at Ron — "I'll come quietly…"

"Up to the castle?" said Snape silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the Dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black… pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay… I —"

What little color there was in Black's face left it.

"You — you've got to hear me out," he croaked. "The rat — look at the rat —"

But there was a mad glint in Snape's eyes that James had never seen before. He seemed beyond reason.

"Come on, all of you," he said. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew to his hands. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him too —"

James quickly stood in his way her wand in her hand.

"Get out of the way, Black, you're in enough trouble already," snarled Snape. "If I hadn't been here to save your skin —"

"Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year," James said. "Harry been alone with him loads of times, having defense lessons against the Dementors. If he was helping my father, why didn't he just finish Harry off then?"

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works," hissed Snape. "Get out of the way, Black."

"YOU'RE PATHETIC!" Harry yelled. "JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN —"

"SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!" Snape shrieked, looking madder than ever. "Like father, like son, Potter, Black! I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! You'd have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black — now get out of the way, or I will make you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, BLACK!"

James made up her mind…

"Silinceo!" she yelled and Snape's voice left him.

"Locomotor mortis!" She cried out again before he could comprehend what was going on. His arms and legs snapped to his sides and he fell to the ground over balancing.

"You shouldn't have done that," said Black, looking at James. "You should have left him to me…"

James just gave him a smirk.

"James attacked a teacher… James attacked a teacher…" Hermione whimpered, staring at the glaring frozen Snape with frightened eyes. "Oh, we're going to be in so much trouble —"

Lupin was struggling against his bonds. Black bent down quickly and untied him. Lupin straightened up, rubbing his arms where the ropes had cut into them.

"Thank you, James," he said and James gave him her wolfish or should I say foxish smirk?

"I'm still not saying I believe you," Harry told Lupin.

"Then it's time we offered you some proof," said Lupin. "You, boy — give me Peter, please. Now."

Ron clutched Scabbers closer to his chest.

"Come off it," he said weakly. "Are you trying to say he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on Scabbers? I mean…" He looked up at Harry for support, "Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat — there are millions of rats — how's he supposed to know which one he is after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"

"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question," said Lupin, turning to Black and frowning slightly.

"How did you find out where he was?"

Black put one of his claw-like hands inside his robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat and held out to show the others.

It was the photograph of Ron and his family that had appeared in the Daily Prophet the previous summer, and there, on Ron's shoulder, was Scabbers.

"How did you get this?" Lupin asked Black, thunderstruck.

"Fudge," said Black. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page on this boy's shoulder… I knew him at once… how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts… to where James and Harry was…"

"My God," said Lupin softly, staring from Scabbers to the picture in the paper and back again. "His front paw…"

"What about it?" said Ron defiantly.

"He's got a toe missing," said Black.

"Of course," Lupin breathed. "So simple… so brilliant… he cut it off himself?"

"Just before he transformed," said Black. "When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself — and sped down into the sewer with the other rats…"

"Didn't you ever hear, Ron?" said Lupin. "The biggest bit of Peter they found was his finger."

"Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He's been in my family for ages, right —"

"Twelve years, in fact," said Lupin. "Didn't you ever wonder why he was living so long?"

"We — we've been taking good care of him!" said Ron.

"Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he?" said Lupin. "I'd guess he's been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again…"

"He's been scared of that mad cat!" said Ron, nodding toward Crookshanks, who was still purring on the bed.

But that wasn't right, Harry thought suddenly… Scabbers had been looking ill before he met Crookshanks… ever since Ron's return from Egypt… since the time when Black had escaped…

"This cat isn't mad," said Black hoarsely. He reached out a bony hand and stroked Crookshanks's fluffy head. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me… Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he's been helping me…"

"What do you mean?" breathed Hermione.

"He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn't… so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me… As I understand it, he took them from a boy's bedside table…"

"You got Neville in trouble…" James accused with a fake glare and Hermione silently chuckled.

"But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it." croaked Black. "This cat — Crookshanks, did you call him? — told me Peter had left blood on the sheets… I supposed he bit himself… Well, faking his own death had worked once."

These words jolted Harry to his senses.

"And why did he fake his death?" he said furiously. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"

"No," said Lupin, "Harry—"

"And now you've come to finish him off!"

"Yes, I have," said Black, with an evil look at Scabbers.

"Then I should've let Snape take you!" Harry shouted and James couldn't help but look at Snape to see him roll his eyes at Harry and she smirked.

"Harry," said Lupin hurriedly, "don't you see? All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down — but it was the other way around, don't you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father — Sirius tracked Peter down —"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Harry yelled. "HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!"

He was pointing at Black, who shook his head slowly; the sunken eyes were suddenly over bright.

"Harry… I as good as killed them," he croaked. "I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me…I'm to blame, I know it… The night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies… I realized what Peter must've done… what I'd done…"His voice broke. He turned away.

"Enough of this," said Lupin, and there was a steely note in his voice James had never heard before.

"There's one certain way to prove what really happened. Ron, give me that rat."

"What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?" Ron asked Lupin tensely.

"Force him to show himself," said Lupin. "If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."

Ron hesitated. Then at long last, he held out Scabbers and Lupin took him. Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head. "Ready, Sirius?" said Lupin.

"_No, I'm Dead! He's going to kill me!"_ Scabbers squeaked and James shook her head.

"You deserve it if he does, you traitoring bastard!" James snarled at him. Lupin and her father looked at her with shock.

"I'm a beast speaker…damn rat, I should have interrogated him while I had the chance…At who was after him…" James explained bitterly.

Black had already retrieved Snape's wand from his frozen body. He approached Lupin and the struggling rat, and his wet eyes suddenly seemed to be burning in his face.

"Together?" he said quietly.

"I think so", said Lupin, holding Scabbers tightly in one hand and his wand in the other. "On the count of three. One — two — THREE!"

A flash of blue-white light erupted from both wands; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in midair, his small gray form twisting madly — Ron yelled — the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then —

It was like watching a speeded-up film of a growing tree. A head was shooting upward from the ground; limbs were sprouting; a moment later, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands.

Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on the bed; the hair on his back was standing up.

He was a very short man, hardly taller than James, Harry, and Hermione. His thin, colorless hair was unkempt and there was a large bald patch on top. He had the shrunken appearance of a plump man who has lost a lot of weight in a short time. His skin looked grubby, almost like Scabbers's fur, and something of the rat lingered around his pointed nose and his very small, watery eyes. He looked around at them all, his breathing fast and shallow. James saw his eyes dart to the door and back again.

"Well, hello, Peter," said Lupin pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him. "Long time, no see."

"S—Sirius… R—Remus…" Even Pettigrew's voice was squeaky. Again, his eyes darted toward the door. "My friends… my old friends…"

Black's wand arm rose, but Lupin seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning took, then turned again to Pettigrew, his voice light and casual.

"We've been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed —"

"Remus," gasped Pettigrew, and James could see beads of sweat breaking out over his pasty face, "you don't believe him, do you…? He tried to kill me, Remus…"

"So we've heard," said Lupin, more coldly. "I'd like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you'll be so —"

"He's come to try and kill me again!" Pettigrew squeaked suddenly, pointing at Black, and James saw that he used his middle finger, because his index was missing. "He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me too… You've got to help me, Remus…"

Black's face looked more skull-like than ever as he stared at Pettigrew with his fathomless eyes.

"No one's going to try and kill you until we've sorted a few things out," said Lupin.

"Sorted things out?" squealed Pettigrew, looking wildly about him once more, eyes taking in the boarded windows and, again, the only door. "I knew he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for this for twelve years!"

"You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban?" said Lupin, his brow furrowed. "When nobody has ever done it before?"

"He's got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!" Pettigrew shouted shrilly. "How else did he get out of there? I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him a few tricks!"

Black started to laugh, a horrible, mirthless laugh that filled the whole room.

"Voldemort, teach me tricks?" he said.

Pettigrew flinched as though Black had brandished a whip at him.

"What, scared to hear your old master's name?" said Black. "I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?"

"Don't know what you mean, Sirius —" muttered Pettigrew, his breathing faster than ever. His whole face was shining with sweat now.

"You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years," said Black. "You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter… They all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them… I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters' on your information… and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways. If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter —"

"Don't know… what you're talking about…" said Pettigrew again, more shrilly than ever. He wiped his face on his sleeve and looked up at Lupin. "You don't believe this — this madness, Remus —"

"I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," said Lupin evenly.

"Innocent, but scared!" squealed Pettigrew. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban — the spy, Sirius Black!"

Black's face contorted.

"How dare you," he growled, sounding suddenly like the bearsized dog he had been. "I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter — I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us… me and Remus… and James…"

Pettigrew wiped his face again; he was almost panting for breath.

"Me, a spy… must be out of your mind… never… don't know how you can say such a —"

"Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it," Black hissed, so venomously that Pettigrew took a step backward. "I thought it was the perfect plan… a bluff… Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you… It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."

Pettigrew was muttering distractedly; James caught words like "far-fetched" and "lunacy," but she couldn't help paying more attention to the ashen color of Pettigrew's face and the way his eyes continued to dart toward the windows and door.

"Professor Lupin?" said Hermione timidly. "Can — can I say something?"

"Certainly, Hermione," said Lupin courteously.

"Well — Scabbers — I mean, this — this man — he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for three years. If he's working for You-Know-Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry before now?"

"There!" said Pettigrew shrilly, pointing at Ron with his maimed hand. "Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair of Harry's head! Why should I?"

"I'll tell you why," said Black. "Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort's been in hiding for fifteen years, they say he's half dead. You weren't about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore's nose, for a wreck of a wizard who'd lost all of his power, were you? You'd want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him…"

Pettigrew opened his mouth and closed it several times. He seemed to have lost the ability to talk.

"Er — Mr. Black — Sirius?" said Hermione.

Black jumped at being addressed like this and stared at Hermione as though he had never seen anything quite like her.

"If you don't mind me asking, how — how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?"

"Thank you!" gasped Pettigrew, nodding frantically at her. "Exactly! Precisely what I —"

But James silenced him with a look and twirl of her wand. Black was frowning slightly at Hermione, but not as though he were annoyed with her. He seemed to be pondering his answer.

"I don't know how I did it," he said slowly. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't suck it out of me… but it kept me sane and knowing who I am… helped me keep my powers… so when it all became… too much… I could transform in my cell… become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know…" He swallowed. "They feel their way toward people by feeding off their emotions… They could tell that my feelings were less — less human, less complex when I was a dog… but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand…But then I saw Peter in that picture… I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry and James… perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again…"

Pettigrew was shaking his head, mouthing noiselessly, but staring all the while at Black as though hypnotized.

"… ready to strike at the moment he could be sure of allies… and to deliver the last Potter to them. If he gave them Harry or James, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honors…So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive…"

Harry remembered what Mr. Weasley had told Mrs. Wealsey. "The guards say he's been talking in his sleep… always the same words… 'He's at Hogwarts.'"

"It was as if someone had lit a fire In my head, and the Dementors couldn't destroy it… It wasn't a happy feeling… it was an obsession… but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog… It's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused… I was thin, very thin… thin enough to slip through the bars… I swam as a dog back to the mainland… I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I've been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch, of course. You fly as well as your father did, Harry…you make my flying look like a butterfly with missing wings Jaybird."

He looked at Harry and James, who did not look away. James offered him a smile.

"Believe me," croaked Black. "Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."

And at long last, Harry believed him. Throat too tight to speak, he nodded. James looked to see Snape was staring at Pettigrew with wide shocked eyes that were starting to look enraged at the man.

"No!"

Pettigrew had fallen to his knees as though Harry's nod had been his own death sentence. He shuffled forward on his knees, groveling, his hands clasped in front of him as though praying.

"Sirius — it's me… it's Peter… your friend… you wouldn't —"

Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled.

"There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them," said Black.

"Remus!" Pettigrew squeaked, turning to Lupin instead, writhing imploringly in front of him. "You don't believe this — wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?"

"Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter," said Lupin. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?" he said casually over Pettigrew's head.

"Forgive me, Remus," said Black.

"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend," said Lupin, who was now rolling up his sleeves. "And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?"

"Of course," said Black, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face. He, too, began rolling up his sleeves. "Shall we kill him together?"

"Yes, I think so," said Lupin grimly.

"You wouldn't… you won't…" gasped Pettigrew. And he scrambled around to Ron.

"Ron… haven't I been a good friend… a good pet? You won't let them kill me, Ron, will you… you're on my side, aren't you?"

But Ron was staring at Pettigrew with the utmost revulsion.

"I let you sleep in my bed!" he said. James snorted at that and her father's mouth quirked slightly.

"Kind boy… kind master…" Pettigrew crawled toward Ron "You won't let them do it… I was your rat… I was a good pet…"

"If you made a better rat than a human, it's not much to boast about, Peter," said Black harshly.

Ron, going still paler with pain, wrenched his broken leg out of Pettigrew's reach. Pettigrew turned on his knees, staggered forward, and seized the hem of Hermione's robes.

"Sweet girl… clever girl… you — you won't let them… Help me…"

Hermione pulled her robes out of Pettigrew's clutching hands and backed away against the wall, looking horrified.

Pettigrew knelt, trembling uncontrollably, and turned his head slowly toward Harry.

"Harry… Harry… you look just like your father… just like him…"

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" roared Black. "HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?"

"Harry," whispered Pettigrew, shuffling toward him, hands outstretched. "Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed… James would have understood, Harry… he would have shown me mercy…"

Both Black and Lupin strode forward, seized Pettigrew's shoulders, and threw him backward onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.

"James, sweet clever wise girl! Please, help me! You've helped me, before from the cats why not now!" Peter asked hysterical and James looked at him with a cold look, truth was she was conflicted her eyes went to Snape's who looked back at her.

"You sold Lily and James to Voldemort," said Black, who was shaking too. "Do you deny it?"

Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch, like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.

"Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord… you have no idea… he has weapons you can't imagine… I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me —"

"DON'T LIE!" bellowed Black. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"

"He — he was taking over everywhere!" gasped Pettigrew. "Wh-what was there to be gained by refusing him?"

"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" said Black, with a terrible fury in his face. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"

"You don't understand!" whined Pettigrew. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" roared Black. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"

Black and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised.

"You should have realized," said Lupin quietly, "if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter."

Hermione covered her face with her hands and turned to the wall.

"NO!" Harry and James yelled.

They ran forward, placing them selves in front Pettigrew, facing the wands. "You can't kill him," they said breathlessly. "You can't."

Black and Lupin both looked staggered.

"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents," Black snarled. "This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family. James, my little girl he's the reason I wasn't there for you and Violet…"

"I know," They panted. "We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the Dementors… He can go to Azkaban… but don't kill him."

"Harry! James!" gasped Pettigrew, and he flung his arms around Harry's and James's knees. "You — thank you — it's more than I deserve — thank you —"

"Get off me," Harry spat, throwing Pettigrew's hands off him in disgust. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because — I don't reckon my dad would've wanted them to become killers — just for you."

James just shuddred and went to Hermione with a disgusted look on her face.

No one moved or made a sound except Pettigrew, whose breath was coming in wheezes as he clutched his chest. Black and Lupin were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands.

"You're the only person who has the right to decide, Harry," said Black. "But think… think what he did…"

"He can go to Azkaban," Harry repeated. "If anyone deserves that place, he does…"

Pettigrew was still wheezing behind him.

"Very well," said Lupin. "Stand aside, Harry."

Harry hesitated.

"I'm going to tie him up," said Lupin. "That's all, I swear."

Harry stepped out of the way. Thin cords shot from Lupin's wand this time, and next moment, Pettigrew was wriggling on the floor, bound and gagged.

"But if you transform, Peter," growled Black, his own wand pointing at Pettigrew too, "we will kill you. You agree, Harry?"

Harry looked down at the pitiful figure on the floor and nodded so that Pettigrew could see him.

"Right," said Lupin, suddenly businesslike. "Ron, I can't mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, so I think it's best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing."

He hurried over to Ron, bent down, tapped Ron's leg with his wand, and muttered, "Ferula." Bandages spun up Ron's leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. Lupin helped him to his feet; Ron put his weight gingerly on the leg and didn't wince.

"That's better," he said. "Thanks."

"At least now he doesn't seem afraid of going near me" Remus said quietly, remembering Ron's reaction to him earlier.

"What about Professor Snape?" said Hermione in a small voice, looking down at Snape's prone figure.

"There's nothing seriously wrong with him," said Lupin, bending over Snape and checking his pulse

Lupin picked up the Invisibility Cloak and tucked it safely into his pocket and then he cast the counter charms and Snape stood with a glare to the others.

"And two of us should be chained to this," said Black, nudging Pettigrew with his toe. "Just to make sure."

"I'll do it," said Lupin.

"And me," said Ron savagely, limping forward.

Black conjured heavy manacles from thin air; soon Pettigrew was upright again, left arm chained to Lupin's right, right arm to Ron's left. Ron's face was set. He seemed to have taken Scabbers's true identity as a personal insult. Crookshanks leapt lightly off the bed and led the way out of the room, his bottlebrush tail held jauntily high.

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	20. Chapter 20

Hey guys I am so sorry about not updating in forever, school is like right around the corner. I needed to do my summer work and I do have a life …lol.

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James had never been part of a stranger group. Crookshanks led the way down the stairs; Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron went next, looking like entrants in a six-legged race. Next came Professor Snape, who was glaring at everyone while Sirius was next to James and behind Snape. Harry and Hermione brought up the rear.

Getting back into the tunnel was difficult. Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron had to turn sideways to manage it; Lupin still had Pettigrew covered with his wand. James could see them edging awkwardly along the tunnel in single file. Crookshanks was still in the lead. James went right before Black, who was still making faces at Snape's back.

"You know what this means?" Black said abruptly to Harry and James as they made their slow progress along the tunnel. "Turning Pettigrew in?"

"You're free," said Harry.

"Yes…" said Black. "But I'm also — I don't know if anyone ever told you — I'm your godfather as well as uncle."

"Yeah, I knew that," said Harry.

"Well… your parents appointed me your guardian," said Black stiffly. "If anything happened to them…"

James waited. Did Black mean what she thought he meant?

"I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle," said Black. "But… well… think about it. Once my name's cleared… if you wanted a… a different home…"

Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of James's stomach.

"What — live with you?" Harry said, accidentally cracking his head on a bit of rock protruding from the ceiling. "Leave the Dursleys?"

"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," said Black quickly. "I understand, I just thought I'd —"

"Are you insane?" said Harry, his voice easily as croaky as Black's. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

Black turned right around to look at them.

"You want to?" he said. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it!" said Harry.

Black's gaunt face broke into the first true smile James had seen upon it. The difference it made was startling, as though a person ten years younger were shining through the starved mask; for a moment, he was recognizable as the man who had laughed at Harry's parents' wedding.

They did not speak again until they had reached the end of the tunnel. Crookshanks darted up first; he had evidently pressed his paw to the knot on the trunk, because Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron clambered upward without any sound of savaging branches.

Black saw Snape up through the hole, then stood back for James, Harry and Hermione to pass. At last, all of them were out.

The grounds were very dark now; the only light came from the distant windows of the castle. Without a word, they set off. Pettigrew was still wheezing and occasionally whimpering. James's mind was buzzing. She was going to leave the Dursleys. She was going to live with Sirius Black, her father. She felt dazed… What would happen when she told the Dursleys she was going to live with the convict they'd seen on television…!

"One wrong move, Peter," said Lupin threateningly ahead. His wand was still pointed sideways at Pettigrew's chest.

Silently they tramped through the grounds, the castle lights growing slowly larger. Snape was still glaring at everyone but mostly Peter.

A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in moonlight.

Snape collided with Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron, who had stopped abruptly. Black froze. He flung out one arm to make Harry, James, and Hermione stop.

James could see Lupin's silhouette. He had gone rigid. Then his limbs began to shake.

"Oh, my —" Hermione gasped. "He didn't take his potion tonight! He's not safe!"

"Run," Black whispered. "Run. Now."

But James couldn't run. Ron was chained to Pettigrew and Lupin. Harry leapt forward but Black caught him around the chest and threw him back.

"Leave it to me — RUN!"

There was a terrible snarling noise. Lupin's head was lengthening. So was his body. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws. Crookshanks's hair was on end again; he was backing away —

As the werewolf reared, snapping its long jaws, Sirius disappeared from James's side. He had transformed. The enormous, bearlike dog bounded forward. As the werewolf wrenched itself free of the manacle binding it, the dog seized it about the neck and pulled it backward, away from Ron and Pettigrew. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at each other.

James stood, transfixed by the sight, too intent upon the battle to notice anything else. It was Hermione's scream that alerted him — Pettigrew had dived for Lupin's dropped wand.

Ron, unsteady on his bandaged leg, fell. There was a bang, a burst of light — and Ron lay motionless on the ground. Another bang — Crookshanks flew into the air and back to the earth in a heap.

"Expelliarmus." Harry yelled, pointing his own wand at Pettigrew; Lupin's wand flew high into the air and out of sight.

"Stay where you are!" Harry shouted, running forward. Too late. Pettigrew had transformed. James saw his bald tail whip through the manacle on Ron's outstretched arm and heard a scurrying through the grass. James didn't think she acted transforming mid run she ran after the rat darting around tree's, the prey always in sight. She was closer to the rat and it's squeaks of mercy, were left unheard as James snapped out taking the rat into her mouth. It was disgusting, but she had Pettigrew right? So she trotted out of the forest to see Snape trying to fix Ron, while Harry and Hermione ran off without Snape seeing them. James walked over to Snape and sat on my back paws and then she pawed his leg and he looked down at her. Smirking he opened his hand for her to drop the rat, so she did and he patted her head with a bark of laughter. James transformed back and began spitting with the laughing professor watching before She ran off to see what Harry and Hermione were doing. She then heard the yelps of her father and she quickly ran after the sound ignoring the cold feeling she got.

The yelping stopped abruptly. As they reached the lakeshore, they saw why — Sirius had turned back into a man. He was crouched on all fours, his hands over his head.

"Nooo," he moaned. "Nooo… please…"

And then James saw them. Dementors, at least a hundred of them, gliding in a black mass around the lake toward them. He spun around, the familiar, icy cold penetrating his insides, fog starting to obscure his vision; more were appearing out of the darkness on every side; they were encircling them…

"Hermione, think of something happy!" Harry yelled, raising his wand, blinking furiously to try and clear his vision, shaking his head to rid it of the faint screaming that had started inside it —I'm going to live with my godfather. I'm leaving the Dursleys.

He forced himself to think of Black, and only Black, and began to chant: "Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!"

Black gave a shudder, rolled over, and lay motionless on the ground, pale as death.

He'll be all right. I'm going to go and live with him.

"Expecto patronum! Hermione, help me! Expecto patronum!"

"Expecto —" Hermione whispered, "expecto — expecto —"

But she couldn't do it. The Dementors were closing in, barely ten feet from them. They formed a solid wall around Harry and Hermione, and were getting closer…

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" James yelled and her fox went darting around scaring off a few Dementors but her fox was to small to get all of the Dementors.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry yelled, trying to blot the screaming from his ears. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A thin wisp of silver escaped his wand and hovered like mist before him. At the same moment, Harry felt Hermione collapse next to him. He was alone…only James…always only James…

"Expecto — expecto patronum —"

Harry felt his knees hit the cold grass. Fog was clouding his eyes. With a huge effort, he fought to remember — Sirius was innocent — innocent — We'll be okay — I'm going to live with him —

"Expecto patronum!" he gasped.

By the feeble light of his formless Patronus, he saw a Dementor halt, very close to him. It couldn't walk through the cloud of silver mist Harry had conjured. A dead, slimy hand slid out from under the cloak. It made a gesture as though to sweep the Patronus aside, the Dementor was run off by James's fox who was barely still standing.

"No — no —" Harry gasped. "He's innocent… expecto expecto patronum —"

He could feet them watching him, hear their rattling breath like an evil wind around him. The nearest Dementor seemed to be considering him. Then it raised both its rotting hands — and lowered its hood.

Where there should have been eyes, there was only thin, gray scabbed skin, stretched blankly over empty sockets. But there was a mouth… a gaping, shapeless hole, sucking the air with the sound of a death rattle. A paralyzing terror filled Harry so that he couldn't move or speak. His Patronus flickered and died.

White fog was blinding him. He had to fight… expecto patronum… he couldn't see… and in the distance, he heard the familiar screaming… expecto patronum… he groped in the mist for Sirius, and found his arm… they weren't going to take him…

But a pair of strong, clammy hands suddenly attached themselves around Harry's neck. They were forcing his face upward… He could feel its breath… It was going to get rid of him first… He could feel its putrid breath… His mother was screaming in his ears… She was going to be the last thing he ever heard —And then, through the fog that was drowning him, he thought he saw a silvery light growing brighter and brighter… He felt himself fall forward onto the grass… Facedown, too weak to move, sick and shaking, Harry opened his eyes. The Dementor must have released him. The blinding light was illuminating the grass around him… The screaming had stopped, the cold was ebbing away…

Something was driving the Dementors back… It was circling around him and Black and Hermione and James… They were leaving…

The air was warm again…With every ounce of strength he could muster, Harry raised his head a few inches and saw two animals amid the light, running and galloping away across the lake… Eyes blurred with sweat, Harry tried to make out what it was… It was as bright as a unicorn… Fighting to stay conscious, Harry watched it canter to a halt as it reached the opposite shore. For a moment, Harry saw, by its brightness, somebody welcoming it back… raising his hand to pat it… someone who looked strangely familiar… but it couldn't be…He then heard a thud behind him…James…

Harry didn't understand. He couldn't think anymore. He felt the last of his strength leave him, and his head hit the ground as he fainted.

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So did you guys like it? Pettigrew is caught and with Snape, yayness!~

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	21. Chapter 21

Hey guys here is the second to last chapter! Hope you like it!

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James woke to a hand stroking her cheek, her eyes fluttered open to see her father smiling down at her, he was cleaner than before. His hair had been cut and it looked like he had been stuffed with food.

"Hey, your awake my little jaybird." He whispered running his fingers through her long hair.

"Dad, what happened?" He chuckled and he told me about how Snape had took them to the castle on strechers and how he turned Peter Pettigrew in and cleared his name. How Hermione and Harry used a time turner to get Buckbeak safe and sound, how Harry had cast the Patronus that helped mine.

"Now my question, why are you not living with your mother?" He asked and James face fell and he looked at her in confusion.

"A few days after you were imprisoned, death eater's swarmed the house. Mom's in St. Mungo's in the psych ward." James said softly and she watched Sirius's eyes water.

"I see…you'll be coming to live with me…and Harry will come too." He said still playing with her hair slightly.

"Mhm….I can't wait, the Dursley's are fucking jackasses." James said and Sirius choked on air at the words she had said.

"Don't say such language." He said mockingly stern and then the two went into chuckles. James smiled brightly up at him and his eyes softened before taking his little girl into his arms.

"I love you James…I thought I'd never see you again." Sirius said as he held his girl tightly.

"I love you too dad. I would have fought for right's too seeing you one way or another." James said and Sirius laughed again at how much they were alike. James looked around to see the others were gone besides Ron.

"Where is everyone?" James asked looking back at her father, who gave her a smile.

"They are at the Great Hall for the end of the year feast, you have been out for day's James." Sirius said petting James head before helping her get up and the two went to the door, where they could hear Dumbledore saying something.

"As you know, Sirius Black, is innocent of his crimes and is staying at Hogwarts with his daughter and nephew until the end of the year…Thanks to the joined help of Professor Lupin, Professor Snape, James Black, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley an innocent man is now free." Dumbledore said and then the two entered the Hall. It went deathly silent as the father and daughter entered before the twins had gotten up from their seats and tackled James who had let out a shriek of laughter and her father watched on smiling.

"Merlin, what are going to do with you?" George asked mockingly while Fred held James tightly his head buried in her neck.

"Carry me to the table so I can eat?" James asked with puppy dog eyes and the two snorted but, Fred picked her up and carried her towards the table while she did a fake queen wave to everyone and a mocking bow to her father who was laughing with the other's in the Great Hall. Sirius then went to the teacher's table and took a seat by Hagrid who slapped his back and almost made him hit the table from the blow.

"As I was saying, Remus Lupin is resigning from teaching, and congratulation is in order. Gryffindor for the third year running has gotten the house cup! Now, eat your fill." Dumbledore said before taking a seat amongst the cheering students. James quickly had chicken legs, steak, mash potatoes, and green beans on her plate and she was eating it like she hadn't eaten in days, which was true. She felt a hand running through her hair and she looked up from taking a bite of steak to see Fred looking at her with soft blue eyes and she gave him a small smile. They intertwined their fingers and began eating again. A few hours later Harry and James found themselves looking at Remus and Sirius who were eyeing them critically.

"So, James…I hear you have a boyfriend." Sirius said conversationally as he eyed his only child.

"Yeah, Fred Weasley…" James said her voice turning soft to match her softening navy eyes. Sirius and Remus looked at her and they saw the way Sirius always was with Violet.

"You are thirteen and this boy is fifteen, correct?" Sirius asked with narrowed eyes and James gave him a small smile.

"Yes…and I'm Fourteen." James said with a correction and Sirius blinked at her before nodding just remembering her birthday was December 20th.

"He's still too old for you!" Sirius said and then looked away from James who was trying to stop her chuckling, and then she and Harry lost it and began to roar with laughter. They calmed down soon and the two looked at the adults with amused eyes.

"Another thing, Remus tells me that your clothes, are hand me down things…is this true?" Sirius asked and the two hesitantly nodded.

"I want to know what happened at the Dursley's and your first two years at school." Sirius said and Harry and James shared a look before launching into telling him everything. When they were finished Sirius looked slightly murderous.

"I can't believe Violet and Lily's sister did this, to her sisters children no less. Voldemort in both of your years of just learning magic." Remus said for the first time and Sirius finally snapped and shot a cutting hex at a bunch of pillows. After calming down the two were left to go to the tower, entering the common room the two were dragged into a huge game of exploding snap that the twins were leading.

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That was chapter 21, how did you like it? Was it good or bad?

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	22. Chapter 22

Hey guys this is the last chapter of the third book I hope you like it!~~

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The exam results came out on the last day of term. James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had passed every subject. Harry had been amazed that he had got through Potions. He had a shrewd suspicion that Dumbledore might have stepped in to stop Snape failing him on purpose. Snape had calmed his hating vibes to the two, but they were by no means gone.

Percy had got his top-grade N.E.W.T.s; Fred and George had pass all of their O.W.L.s thanks to James, they had said. The last day had been tiring but the group had gotten through it and James couldn't wait to see their uncle and aunt's face when they see Sirius.

As the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station the next morning, Hermione gave James, Harry, and Ron some surprising news.

"I went to see Professor McGonagall this morning, just before breakfast. I've decided to drop Muggle Studies."

"But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty percent!" said Ron.

"I know," sighed Hermione, "but I can't stand another year like this one. That Time-Turner, it was driving me mad. I've handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, I'll be able to have a normal schedule again."

"I still can't believe you didn't tell us about it," said Ron grumpily. "We're supposed to be your friends."

"I promised I wouldn't tell anyone," said Hermione severely. She looked around at Harry, who was watching Hogwarts disappear from view behind a mountain. Two whole months before he'd see it again…

"Oh, cheer up, Harry!" said Hermione sadly.

"I'm okay," said Harry quickly. "Just thinking about the holidays."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about them too," said Ron. "Harry, you've got to come and stay with us. I'll fix it up with Mum and Dad, then I'll call you. I know how to use a fellytone now —"

"A telephone, Ron," said James. "Honestly, you should take Muggle Studies next year…"

Ron glared at her mockingly.

"It's the Quidditch World Cup this summer! How about it, Harry, James? Come and stay, and we'll go and see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work."

This proposal had the effect of cheering Harry up a great deal.

"Yeah… I bet Sirius would like to go too…" Harry said with a small smile.

Feeling considerably more cheerful, Harry joined Ron, James, and Hermione in several games of Exploding Snap, and when the witch with the tea cart arrived, James bought herself a very large lunch, though it had a lot of chocolate in it. But it was late in the afternoon before the thing that made Harry and her truly happy turned up…

"Harry," said Hermione suddenly, peering over his shoulder. "What's that thing outside your window?"

Harry turned to look outside. Something very small and gray was bobbing in and out of sight beyond the glass. James stood up for a better look and saw that it was a tiny owl, carrying a letter that was much too big for it. The owl was so small, in fact, that it kept tumbling over in the air, buffeted this way and that in the train's slipstream. Harry quickly pulled down the window, stretched out his arm, and caught it. It felt like a very fluffy Snitch. He brought it carefully inside.

The owl dropped its letter onto Harry's seat and began zooming around their compartment, apparently very pleased with itself for accomplishing its task. Hedwig clicked her beak with a sort of dignified disapproval. Crookshanks sat up in his seat, following the owl with his great yellow eyes. Ron, noticing this, snatched the owl safely out of harm's way.

Harry picked up the letter. It was addressed to him. He ripped open the letter, and shouted, "It's from Sirius!"

"What's he writing about when we just saw him?" James asked amused while the others snorted.

"What?" said Ron and Hermione excitedly. "Read it aloud!"

Dear Jaybird and Harry,

I hope this finds you before you reach the station. The Black family house is being cleaned up as we speak.

Buckbeak has his own room as you both will as well, I'll hopefully be there in time to pick you up…If I am late then sorry. The Minister has given me a compensation of a lot of gold and seats for the Quidditch cup in the box. There is something I never got around to telling Harry during our stay together. It was I who sent you the Firebolt —

"Ha!" said Hermione triumphantly. "See! I told you it was from him!"

"See Ha! I proved it was him, remember the receipt I got from Gringotts." James told Hermione who pouted at her.

"Yes, but he hadn't jinxed it, had he?" said Ron. "Ouch!" The tiny owl now hooting happily in his hand, had nibbled one of his fingers in what it seemed to think was an affectionate way.

– Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from my own Gringotts vault. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays' worth of presents from your godfather and uncle. I would also like to apologize for the fright I think I gave you and Jaybird that night last year when you left your uncle's house. I had only hoped to get a glimpse of you both before starting my journey north, but I think the sight of me alarmed you.

I am enclosing something else for you both, which I think will make your next year at Hogwarts more enjoyable. Another thing, what is this I hear about you getting dogs to be let into Hogwarts, James? Haha! Congratulation for getting this done, no student has even gotten this to go through.

From your rougeishly handsome Father/Godfater/Uncle…Blimey I have a lot of Title's I feel like Dumbledore.

Sirius

James looked eagerly inside the envelope. There were two pieces of parchment in there. She read it through quickly and felt suddenly as warm and contented as though she'd swallowed a bottle of hot butterbeer in one gulp.

I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather/ James Black's Father, hereby give him/her permission to visit Hogsmeade on weekends.

"That'll be good enough for Dumbledore!" said James happily. She looked back at Sirius's letter. "Hang on, there's a PS…"

I thought your friend Ron might like to keep this owl, as it's my fault he no longer has a rat.

Ron's eyes widened. The minute owl was still hooting excitedly.

"Keep him?" he said uncertainly. He looked closely at the owl for a moment; then, to Harry's, James's and Hermione's great surprise, he held him out for Crookshanks to sniff.

"What do you reckon?" Ron asked the cat. "Definitely an owl?"

"_I knew he couldn't resist me._" Crookshanks purred and James snorted.

"That's good enough for me," said Ron happily. "He's mine."

"_I have a human! I have a human, oh this is exciting! I can feed him and play with him!"_ the little owl hooted and James burst out laughing.

Harry read and reread the letter from Sirius all the way back into King's Cross station. It was still clutched tightly in his hand as he, James, Ron, and Hermione stepped back through the barrier of platform nine and three-quarters. Harry and James spotted Uncle Vernon at once. He was standing a good distance from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, eyeing them suspiciously, and when Mrs. Weasley hugged Harry and James in greeting, his worst suspicions about them seemed confirmed.

"I'll call about the World Cup!" Ron yelled after Harry and James as he left and they all watched as James and Fred had a loving moment together.

"What's that?" Uncle Vernon snarled, staring at the envelope Harry was still clutching in his hand. "If it's another form for me to sign, you've got another —"

"It's not," said Harry cheerfully. "It's a letter from my godfather and James's Father my Uncle."

"Godfather?" sputtered Uncle Vernon. "You haven't got a godfather!"

"Yes, I have," said Harry brightly. "He was my mum and dad's best friend. He's a convicted murderer, but he's broken out of wizard prison and was on the run but now he's going to be taking James and I in. He's not very happy with you lot, so I'd run along if I were you."

And, grinning broadly at the look of horror on Uncle Vernon's face, Harry and James sat to wait for their Uncle/Father. Soon he apparated with Remus so he was near enough and he walked over grabbing James in a hug and ruffling Harry's hair. Uncle Vernon watched this in shock.

"You must be Vernon Dursley…Hmmm, I'll have you know that I want to beat the shit out of you right now, but going to prison again is not on my agenda, helping my daughter and nephew get over the abuse you put them through is my main priority…Oh and have you met my friend Remus, He's a werewolf." Sirius said smugly and gleefully at the pale man and Remus showed off his sharp canine teeth and growled at him. They watched him run off towards his car and speed off before the four burst out laughing.

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So did you guys like it, yes, no, maybe so?

Review please and stay attentive for the next book, Potter and Black Book: 4.

KrisxCross out!~


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